


Dirty Little Secret

by Orphelin



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Angst, Cheating, Daddy Kink, Daddy Nicole Haught, Dirty Talk, F/F, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Rough Sex, Smut, Strap-Ons, The naughty tags are just for chapter 1 kids, They're both 18 btw forgot to clarify, bed sharing, champ gets punched in 6 too :), cheater Waverly Earp, nicole's introspective while pounding wave into the mattress, the talk tm happens in chapter 6, waverly's pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orphelin/pseuds/Orphelin
Summary: To her shame, Nicole knows that, in her heart, she’d rather have Waverly however she could, even if she leaves with a bitter taste in her mouth, because Waverly never lets her stay the night. Ironically, it’s how she usually prefers it; likes being touched but not caressed, gripped hard but not held, but with her, all Nicole wants is to be able to wrap her arms around her from behind, mold her to her skin, sink into her without it having to be in the tenure of passion.or troubled kid Nicole Haught tries to deal with the fact that she's Waverly's dirty little secret.





	1. Here Comes The Sun

Nicole doesn’t realize how she’s been reduced to this. Even as Waverly’s legs are wrapped around her waist, toned muscles of her stomach clenching with every thrust of Nicole’s hips, her thoughts are all over the place, instead of the girl writhing beneath her, begging her to go harder.

God, is Waverly a vision. Sunkissed hair sprawled on her pillow, framing her head like a halo as her eyes roll in ecstasy, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she fights the urge to moan.

Don’t get her wrong, she knows perfectly well how little Waverly has to do in order to get her on top of her, even in the wee hours of the night such as these. All Waverly did was send her a photo of her in nothing but lace, and Nicole, to her shame, had climbed onto her motorcycle and sped toward the Earp homestead, where Waverly greeted her on her knees, her favorite toy held tight in one dainty hand.

The thought has her core clenching around the shorter end of the toy. The image took her breath away the moment she’d stumbled into the room, like a woman parched for touch. 

Waverly’s an addiction worse than the cigarettes and alcohol Nicole imbibes in daily, she thinks. 

Cigarettes make her throat burn and the bottle often has her head pounding, but it's nothing compared to the ache her heart fights against whenever she she's reminded of what she is to Waverly. 

Her dirty little secret. A quick fuck when no one's looking, whenever Champ does something that infuriates her, be it cheating or partying. 

And fuck, it hurts. Knowing that Waverly’s hers just under the cowl of the night, with only the moon as witness to their coupling. Hurts knowing that she’s just a booty call to someone she’d give her life for, if only she’d let her, but they’re too far into this game to let go.

To her shame, Nicole knows that, in her heart, she’d rather have Waverly however she could, even if she leaves with a bitter taste in her mouth, because Waverly never lets her stay the night. Ironically, it’s how she usually prefers it; likes being touched but not caressed, gripped hard but not held, but with her, all Nicole wants is to be able to wrap her arms around her from behind, mold her to her skin, sink into her without it having to be in the tenure of passion.

Because at the end of the day, she’s still Waverly Earp, cheerleader, head of the student committee and nicest person in Purgatory, not to mention the girlfriend of Champ Hardy, soccer star of the town, while Nicole’s the parentless troublemaker who smokes behind the church with Wynonna.

“Daddy!” whines Waverly, hips impatiently laboring away, chasing her release even as Nicole has stopped almost completely. She truly is beautiful, unburdened like this, but it just fills her with rage instead of leaving her in awe.

Wavely cannot even stand to call her by her own name, even when she’s completely surrendering to her wicked desires. No, instead she hides Nicole underneath the moniker.

Briefly, she wonders if she uses the same name for Champ. The thought dissolves as soon as it hits her, and only causes her hips to begin their strenuous task again, as jealousy flares within her and causes her to gallop even faster than before, intent of forcing every thought of the chump from Waverly’s pretty, lying lips. 

Glancing down, she’s met by the sole sight that reminds her why she always finds herself back in Waverly’s bed, even after all the times she’d sworn would be the last.

No, she knows he’s the last thing on her mind whenever Nicole has her like this. There’s no way this version of Waverly, who can barely gasp out a single word, can have anything other than pleasure on her mind. 

Nicole knows, because even as she’s actively trying to focus her attention elsewhere, she finds herself engulfed in the mist of pleasure, that’s slowly burning away each one of her traitorously rational thoughts. 

Waverly latches her lips onto her throat, mouth furiously digging a bruise into her skin, and something within Nicole snaps.

The redhead lets out a honest to god growl, that’s entirely too animalistic, and forces her hips to hold in place. Her legs are burning, muscles twitching and aching to continue, but she doesn’t give in. She has half a mind to pull out and leave Waverly a shuddering, soaked mess on ruined sheets, but decides against it. She would conquer the body beneath her, satisfy her so thoroughly that Waverly would never take anyone other to bed again. 

If Waverly’s body is all she would give her, Nicole would make the most out of it. 

It is only then that she realizes that she must have spaced out for a few seconds, as Waverly, whom she’d pinned to the mattress, is in the middle of another begging tirade, seemingly taking her hesitation as a sign to release her desperation.

Fingers trailing over the mark Waverly’s made, she’s reminded of why she stopped in the first place. She would not let the other girl mark her while she’s being paraded around by that clown she calls her boyfriend. 

She pulls out. 

“Nononono,” Waverly lets out a whimper, desperately trying to reach the shaft again.

“Turn around,” she orders, hands moving to Waverly’s hips, molding her in position, “if you can’t keep yourself from marking me, you might as well be treated as the slut you are.” Because damn it, she cannot bear the marks proudly while Waverly stays wrapped in Champ’s arms.

Immediately, a new wave of wetness coats her fingers. Of course, even as she’s actively trying to punish Waverly, she finds a way to enjoy it. Then, the realization hits her like a race car. She’s punishing herself, more than she is Waverly. She loves looking at her, the effect she has on the cheerleader, and doing it this way only reinforces the idea that it’s just a booty call, stripping it of even the last wisp of intimacy the act holds.

As always, Nicole is the one sabotaging herself. She was the one who offered Waverly a no strings attached kind of deal in the first place (if you pretend, I will too) back when she was just Wynonna’s hot little sister and not the woman who holds her heart in the palm of her hand and is not even aware of it, because Nicole is a coward.

She only has herself to blame for not being brave enough to confess her feelings to Waverly, who’s so clearly aching for love that she accepts Champ’s lust as the alternative, knowing no better. 

Yet, Nicole cannot even imagine a world without Waverly in it, in whatever capacity that might be. The thought of Waverly refusing her love, whether it be out of fear of the possible repercussions of being openly gay in Purgatory, or another label to stand next to the already cursed Earp name. 

A low, submissive, whine beneath her jolts her from the somber thought. Waverly cannot keep still, and the very developed muscles of her legs, honed by years of cheerleading, are flexing in time with the gasps she’s letting loose.

Her fingers find purchase in the flesh of her lower back, and she presses down, pushing her even deeper into the sheets, just as she thrusts back in, exhaling in relief as the pressure in her own core is lessened some.

It’s easier to pretend, Nicole decides, as she slides her hand into Waverly’s chestnut tresses, pushing her head down into the pillow, muffling the noises she’s making. To imagine that the body she’s rutting in is Shaes, or Stephanies, anyone other than Waverly, who’s writhing so beautifully.

Bending down, she blows hot air over the sweat slickened skin of her lover’s neck, barely resisting the urge to sink her teeth into the skin and leave an imprint of herself on Waverly’s skin for days, but that’s not what they are; it’s something reserved for lovers who give their love freely, not hidden behind locked doors.

Waverly surprises her once again, as she cranes her neck and crashes her lips into Nicole’s own, drinking in the lust dripping from her tongue. It’s far from gentle, all teeth and snaking tongues, but it’s more than they’d shared for a long time.

It’s a clever, albeit unconscious thing Waverly does; somehow sensing Nicole’s distress over situation and holding out an olive branch, something that convinces Nicole that maybe, she’s what Waverly needs, too. 

The desperation she tastes from Waverly slithers into her own bones sneakily, reducing her thoughts to everything and nothing all at once, centering her worlds axis once again on Waverly, who’s insistently pushing back against her hips, knowing full well it forces the toy to sink even deeper into Nicole, who’s ravenous for pleasure.

She’s so loud that it’s enough to chase the bad thoughts away, at least until they’re both spent and sated. 

Growling deep in her throat, she uses the hand that’s not tangled in Waverlý’s hair, circling her clit in teasing, light touches, that send bolts of pleasure through Wave, and make her entire body shake with shocks, which in turn makes the toy vibrate in Nicole.

“Nicole!” she sobs into her elbows, so completely overtaken with pleasure to realize she’s dropped the moniker they’d agreed on, and oh does it make Nicole experience her own pleasure tenfold, knowing that she’s the one reducing Waverly to this quivering mess and that its her name Waverly’s shouting to the heavens and no one elses. “God, Nic, yes…”

The thought spurs her on, and like a demon freed, she manages to turn her thrusts even more savage than before, intent on utterly ruining her. “You like what I’m doing to you, baby? You love the way only I can satisfy you? I bet no one knows how much you like being pushed around.”

At her words, Waverly lets out a howl that’s almost too inhuman, like Nicole has just forced the air out of her lungs with the combination of her filthy words and thrusting hips. “Yess… you fill me so good, Nicole, only you.”

If you pretend, I’ll pretend. Nicole cannot even tell if she’s telling the truth, but for the moment, her sex crazed brain’s been pushed to overdrive with the confession, storing the information and the picture they make deep into her brain.

“What about that boy-man of yours, huh?” the words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them, and her insecurities have been bared to the air for the first time, a testament to how emotion starved Waverly has her.  
“Nonono,” she shakes her head, voice high pitched and desperate,”he’s nothing compared to you, I can’t even remember what his touch is like, I swear, daddy, I swear,”

“Good girl,” she moans, worry melted away, “That’s my good girl.” and in turn, the hand that’s been pulling at her hair, releases the hold and instead gently moves the slick mane to the side, fingers gliding through the hair soothingly, a jarring contrast to the other, that’s still trailing over Waverly’s clit.

It seems it is the contrast that forces Waverly to the edge, as she tenses in her arms, but just as she’s about to reprimand the submissive, manages to hold it in. 

“Nicole,daddy, pleaseplease let me come,” she’s babbling, mouth moving too quickly for the words to be anything near clear, but Nicole’s heard them in every variation, enough times to know what she wants.

She gives one last thrust, throwing all of her weight behind it, and causing the bed to dip dangerously just as she lets out a moan of her own, “Come for me, baby, come together with daddy.”

Waverly lets out a scream so loud she’s worried the neighbors would call the cops, but ever the conscious lover, she pushes back with all her strength, thinking of Nicole’s pleasure too. 

Nicole collapses on top of her, going down akin to a house of cards as the force of hew own release hits her, but not before pulling out the toy and discarding it to the side.

Waverlý’s eerily still below her, and for a moment she wonders whether she’s even still awake; wouldn’t be the first time she’d sent Waverly straight to dreamland from the force of her orgasm, a thought that still causes pride to swell in her chest.

She needn’t have worried, as Waverly repositions them, nuzzling into the skin of her neck, before ushering their mouths together in a slow, generous, kiss. 

She knows she should be relishing this moment, the way their skin seems to fuse together, bound with sweat and pleasure, but all it does is remind her of the full reality of their situation, filling her mind with dread.

Of fucking course Waverly would choose to cross another bridge just as she’s planning on breaking it off, throwing the puppy eyed hockey player another bone to keep her by her side. It only took her months of fooling around in the dark to finally approve of post coital cuddling. Probably found Champ boning another girl in school today, she thinks because it always takes one of his mistakes for Waverly to inch closer to Nicole, but it’s never enough to make her completely push him away.

At this point, Nicole doubts it ever will be and her heart breaks even more.

“Did you mean it?” 

Waverly looks up at her, question shining in her eyes.

Swallowing, Nicole marches onward. She’s never been the one to give up easily. “When you said you can’t remember what Champ’s touch is like. Is it true?”

At the mention of her boyfriends name, Waverly tenses. “… we haven’t done it in a while, yes.” 

“Why don’t you leave him?” 

Wavely cannot even look at her, instead choosing to burn holes into the sheets. “Nicole, you know why, please don’t bring him into this,”

Suddenly, her skin goes cold and instead of being comforted by Waverly’s against her own, she feels constricted, caged, and immediately rolls away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“I can’t do this anymore, I’m more than a plaything for you to use whenever you feel like it. Either break up with him, or we’re done.” the ultimatum slides off her tongue easily, and she feels lighter, regardless of Waverly’s response. It had been brewing for a while, with every stolen glance of the couple, and every touch Waverly denied her, and now out in the open, she feels free.

“Nicole, you know I can’t do that, people will talk!” she’s pleased that Waverlý’s not unaffected, even as her voice wavers in hurt. 

“People are already talking!” she growls “about how your shithead of a boyfriend keeps cheating on you at every turn and you ignoring it!” 

“He’s safe, Nicole! No one sees me as Wynonna’s younger sister when I’m with him!”

“They see you as his pathetic girlfriend who lets him stomp all over her pride. I don’t see how that’s much better.”

Waverly puffs out a breath, “Look, I know he’s not perfect, but he loves me, he always comes back to me.”

The laugh Nicole lets out at hearing that confession is a hollow, sad thing. “Waverly, do you really think I would have let you keep me your dirty little secret if I didn’t feel anything for you? If I didn’t ache to be with you in any way possible, even if it kills me? I fucking love you!”

It takes both her and Waverly a moment to process what she’s just said. She’s just foolishly laid all of her cards on the table.

It takes her another to realize Waverly’s not saying it back, just staring at her slackjawed. 

She runs out of the room, incapable of dealing with the fallout of her actions, like the coward she is. 

And her heart breaks for them both.


	2. Claws In Your Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And yet, for all her avoidance of alcohol and cigarettes, it’s Nicole Haught’s touch that haunted her for days after. Nothing could have prepared her for the way her skin ached for Nicole’s on top of her, the way they seemed to perfectly mold together, crash and burn into something beautiful, even for mere moments.
> 
> or the moments after, in Waverly's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in, kiddos. We're not done yet. Can't promise regular updates, but you guys always motivate me when you leave kudos or comment, thanks a lot to all of the people who liked this back when it was a one shot. You guys made me think of making it a full on fic. Kudos to you!

Waverly’s always thought she knew what loss felt like; after all, she’d lost her father at a very young age, and mother at an even younger one. Yet, she has never felt more lonely than in this moment; legs still spread shamefully in testament of her earlier activities, skin glistening with the sheen of sweat and body cursedly unmarred.

Yes, she knows she’s the one who told Nicole not to mark her, in fear of Champ finding out, but she’s never felt so complete as she did the moment the redhead relapsed and painted a bruise into the skin of her inner thigh. She’d had to skip cheerleading practice that week, but it was worth feeling the echo of Nicole’s touch on her skin for days. 

The wind streaming from an open window sends her reeling upwards, pulling the sheets closer to her in an attempt to banish the chill, and yet it does not prevent the shudder that lances through her when she realizes just what Nicole said.

Nicole loves her; the Nicole Haught, resident behind-the-church smoker and temperamentally more of a sister to Wynonna than she is, and yet she told her she loved her. 

The thought just causes her hands to grip the sheets in a vice-like grip and her stomach to plummet right to her feet, chasing away the last, tingling remnants of pleasure from her mind.

Unlike Wynonna, she is not a person who is prone to addiction; in fact, she avoids even coffee in fear of it and here she is, addicted to the touch of another person, who’s not even her partner. 

Her cheating, son of a gun boyfriend; though at this point, she supposed they’re much different after all. After all, she’s been cheating on him for months at this point, at first, she’d thought of it as a form of payback, a taste of his own medicine that would hopefully make him appreciate her more.

And yet, for all her avoidance of alcohol and cigarettes, it’s Nicole Haught’s touch that haunted her for days after. Nothing could have prepared her for the way her skin ached for Nicole’s on top of her, the way they seemed to perfectly mold together, crash and burn into something beautiful, even for mere moments.

She wants to blame Nicole, really, but she’s the one who’d seeked her out time after time, insatiably asking for more. With the invisible lacerations of Nicole’s touch on her skin, she never quite felt alone, even when Wynonna was out on a drinking binge and Champ god knows where. 

Her hands found their way up, from the warmth of the blankets to her face, hiding her shame from the empty room, as though Nicole were still there and not gone.

It breaks her heart, but she can’t love Nicole the way she wants her to, the way she deserves, but god does she ache for it. She wants nothing more than to hold Nicole’s hand during recess instead of being molded into Champ’s arm candy, to freely kiss her in front of their friends and show her off to Gus and Curtis, but Waverly Earp is a coward, a coward who cares too much about herself and the way others perceive her.

She thinks about Jeremy and Robin, both dear friends of hers, who’d refused to hide their budding relationship from the eyes of other Purgatorians. They’d stood proud, happy to have found each other, and Purgatory cast them out for it. 

She still remembers the pungent smell of rotten fruit some jocks had thrown at Jeremy during lunch break, blissfully free of consequences because of their status.

Just like the flowers in Gus’ garden, their relationship slowly withered away, with Robin’s parents going so far as to transfer him to another school.

And god, even though she was friends with both of them, she didn’t dare speak out lest she be cast out too, the ‘good’ Earp gone bad, just like her sister and her parents before her.

Nicole deserves better than fleeting touches in the dark, and fumblings in corners. She deserves someone who could give themselves to her fully and absolutely, without care for the consequences.

It’s easier being Waverly Earp, head cheerleader and Champ’s girlfriend, than Waverly Earp, purgatory pariah.

A voice in her head tries to convince her to tell Nicole everything, assuring her that the redhead would wait for her; but she squishes it as soon as she hears it. It’s easier for both of them if Nicole hates her; after all, love easily morphs into hate. 

It’s only then that she remembers the state Nicole was in when she left. She contemplates calling her, just to know if she’s arrived home safely, but then realizes that Nicole likely won’t even answer.

With a sigh, she dials Wynonna. Hopefully the older Earp wouldn’t question why she needed to know where Nicole was.

Just as she begins to fear Wynonna wouldn’t even answer, possibly passed out in a ditch somewhere, the sound of trashy pop music assaults her already sensitive ears, and her grip on the phone momentarily weakens. 

“Waves, hey!” somehow, Wynonna manages to slur through even those two simple words, and Waverly is left wondering just how many drinks she’s had.

“Wynonna.” she grits out, exasperation already starting to pull at her nerves. Talking to drunk Wynonna was about as easy as convincing Champ to visit her during cheer practice.

“Tell me you’re not at Pussy Willows.”

She can vaguely make out Wynonna cussing at someone in the background, and considers just hanging up and showing up to yank her older sister home, as she’s done countless times in the past. 

“But Haught made me! Get mad at her, Waves! I was willing to just chill at her place or something, but she just looked at me like I murdered Calamity Jane in front of her so I couldn’t say no.” 

Oh shit. Nicole Haught is a menace in the rink and outside of it, fierce at everything she does and sincere to boot,but when drunk, it multiplies tenfold. Usually, it does not bother Waverly, but when she’s the cause of her distress, it makes her wonder just how honest Nicole would be with her best friend. 

Wynonna couldn’t find out. It was one of her first conditions back when they weren’t in over their heads in whatever this is. The rational part of her is trying to convince her that Wynonna, of all people, would not care in the slightest, but the anxious little girl that lives in the pit of Waverly’s stomach just reminds her of the pain she was in after mother and father left. 

She couldn’t risk it happening again; it wouldn’t be the first time Wynonna would go, but it might be the only time she wouldn’t come back, and Waverly Earp cannot live without the only family she’s got left. 

“Did she say anything about what’s bothering her?” 

“Nah, refuses to tell me what’s wrong with her, and I didn’t wanna push it.”

Waverly wants to punch herself for the relief that floods her the moment Wynonna speaks. She should be asking about Nicole, finding out how to help her, but instead, she’s just looking out for herself, like the coward she is.

Of course Nicole, even in the state she’d left her in, wouldn’t betray her. Even with a broken heart, she remains stalwart, and the fact that she’s still putting her first makes Waverly’s heart ache for both of them. 

“Try to get her out of there Wynonna, I don’t care if you puke all over the homestead if it gets you two home. You and I both remember what happened the last time you two got hammered at Pussy Willows.” And god, does she; Nicole got into a fight with a group of bikers over them leering at the waitress there, and she had to bail both of them out, the sheriff only letting her do so just because he had a soft spot for Nicole for some reason. 

She doubts he would be as lenient if it happened again. Last thing she wants is for Nicole to get hurt or kicked out of the team because she broke her heart and forced her hand. 

“Easier said than done.” Wynonna murmured into mic, “Talk to you later, Waves.”

Their imminent visit steered her mind right back to focus, and she ignored the heavy weight of tension coiling in her stomach in favor of getting herself in order. She couldn’t open the door naked, of course. Especially not after tonight.

Though the shower she took did little to wash away her feelings, she did reemerge somewhat presentable, seemingly the perfectly normal Waverly Earp once again. 

The heavy scent of booze invades her nostrils, and she immediately thinks the two have arrived, strangely early, but the stench of axe body spray’s the very next thing she feels, and she feels sick in her stomach, not only because of the scent.

“Babe!”

She cringes internally at the nickname. Only Champ could make something so innocent sound so demeaning. 

Forcing her lips to form something more akin to a grimace than a smile, she turns to the door in order to greet her untimely visitor. 

“Champ, what are you doing here?” 

“Awh babe! Aren’t you happy to see me?” he questioned, immediately going to kiss her.”I blew Perry and the others off so I could come here and spend time with you.”

She’s so surprised by the revelation that she doesn’t even register his lips on hers before the contact is gone. Not only by the fact that he apparently chose to spend time with her, but that he, indirectly, decided not to sleep with another. 

Somehow, it does not make feel any better. A few short months ago the revelation would have elated her, but now it just makes her mind draw comparisons between him and Nicole.

It seems like Champ is unaware of her inner turmoil, as he prepares to kiss her again, but she recoils, almost on instinct. He seems intent on chasing away the ghost of Nicole’s touch, causing her to feel threatened.

His lips on hers felt smothering, demanding more than she’s willing to give. The sour taste of alcohol gives a kick to the bundle of anxiousness in her stomach, and she moves away.

“You’re drunk, Champ, I’m not having sex with you.”

“But babe! We haven’t done it in so long!” he whines pathetically, but remained a safe distance away.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want some of this…” he wiggled his eyebrows in what she thinks is supposed to look sexy and motioned towards his stained t-shirt.

“I don’t think anyone would want that, Chump, and while we’re at it, get the hell away from my sister.” 

“Whatever, I’m supposed to be out with the guys anyway.” he had the gall to give her the side eye and walked out of the room.

“Where’s Nicole?” she asks as Wynonna throws herself onto the couch, slowly peeling away her boots. 

“Home.” she grunts, “Didn’t wanna go to the homestead for some reason, so I just dropped her off.”

Of course she wouldn’t want to see Waverly. The wound is still fresh in her mind, and she probably couldn’t act as if everything was normal around Wynonna. She wants to slap herself for not realizing it. Nicole probably thought she was inviting them back out of pity.

“Wynonna” she hisses, “what made you think it would be a good idea to leave her alone when she’s upset?” 

Her sister just rolls her eyes at her and throws the boots to the side. “She’s my best friend Waves, I assure you, I know her better than you do, and if she wants to lick her wounds alone, I’m going to let her do it.”

She grits her teeth in annoyance. Wynonna ‘knows’ it just because she herself has never been good with emotions, and projected her own preferences onto Nicole. Nicole, whose parents have already forced her to move out of the big city in order to protect their public image, oblivious to her pleas for attention.

They thought it was her homosexuality that made her act out and drink, but it was their negligence. If they’d only gone to her hockey games or placated her with actions rather than money, they’d be looking at another kid. 

She knows Nicole’s terrified of loneliness, just like she is. While Waverly fights it by being the perfect student, Nicole wards it off by drinking herself half to unconsciousness and sleeping around just so she would have the illusion of companionship for a little while.

She thinks it’s half the reason she was so attracted to Nicole in the first time. Broken recognizes broken, and together they mend some of it. It was easy doing it in the dark, she thinks, when it was just the two of them and the world was just a blur on the edge of consciousness; something they could ignore and chase away during their coupling. 

Naturally, nothing is ever so simple. Their connection grew too big for the cramped space of their thoughts, and Nicole was the first one to break away, and yet Waverly is at fault for letting her go, for being so socially chained to the norm. 

She’s stupidly grown used to having Nicole whenever she wished that she forgot what it was like to live without her. 

It’s only been a few hours, but the emptiness nestling in her chest is as vast and as powerful as any black hole lingering in the universe. It’s allconsuming, treading itself into her thoughts and pulling at her heart, because damn it, she loves Nicole Haught.

Loves how the tall hockey player would offer to stay after school just to help her decorate the halls before any big event, never expecting anything in return.

Loves how she commented on whatever new cheer routine Waverly thought up, adding her input, unlike Champ who just graded them based on how much of her skin he could see.

Loves how she always made sure Waverly wanted whatever happened in between them. 

Loves how she was willing to suffer in silence, even though it would be easier for her to tell Wynonna, who’s coincidentally her only friend, just so she would respect Waverly’s wishes. 

“Waves, hey, hey, don’t cry, I didn’t mean it I swear!” she feels, rather than sees Wynonna as she hugs her to her chest, soothingly rubbing her back, albeit a bit awkwardly at first.

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying, but judging by the wetness on her face, she’s been at it for a bit, and knowing how oblivous Wynonna is, probably a bit longer than she’s thought. 

“Sorry,” she sniffles, backing away slowly, “It’s just that I don’t want her to be alone when she’s hurt.” 

“Yeah,” Wynonna mutters, arms crossed over her chest in an awkward gesture, “I guess I forgot to mention that she’s not exactly alone, You know that senior, Shae? Turns out she and Nicole know each other.” 

She swears her heart stops beating right there and then, at hearing those cruel, cruel words. Of course, Wynonna is just being her honest, blunt self who had no idea she was telling Nicole’s lover that she’s with another woman.

Even though she has no right to, she feels betrayal seep right into her bones, and the crushing weight of guilt causes her knees to quiver. If only she’d been brave for once in her life, the moment Nicole offered her own heart to her, just so Waverly would hand it right back.

Needles tear into her limbs, but she forces herself to remain standing, if only because Wynonna’s in front of her, even though her heart, bared after all those months, lays on the floor in tiny, broken pieces. 

Without a word, she grabs the whiskey from Wynonna’s hands and drinks straight from the bottle, for once not minding being the Earp stereotype.

A coward hiding behind liquor in hope of it filling the void in her chest, that’s just swallowing her whole where she stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [yell at me on tumblr](http://theorphelin.tumblr.com)


	3. Salt In The Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after at the Haught residence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you surprised with this update? Because I am too. Consider it a Santa Lucia gift. 
> 
> I wish to thank all of you for the wonderful comments and the kudos you've given me. Really great incentive!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

There are gentle hands in her hair, softly threading through the crimson tresses, goading her into pressing herself more fully into the pillow, unwilling to let the sensation disappear just yet. It reminds her of the way her mother used to comfort her after her night terrors chased her to seek her out.

Nicole 

Someone’s calling out, trying to anchor her back to reality, but if Nicole knows anything, if the ache that’s beginning to pierce through the fog of her mind, is that she’d probably drank herself into a stupor the night before, which denoted a reason for it, a reason she’s not ready to face just yet.

Nicole.

The hand in her hair is gone now, and she finds herself missing the warmth, but as soon as it’s gone, another hand appears on her shoulder, her bare shoulder, she realizes. Panic slowly seeps into her bones, but she forces herself to stay still. The grip on her shoulder is tight, set on a fast, vibrating pace, that sends her whole upper body spiralling, shaking off the remnants of sleep like piles of snow.

“I’m awake;” she slurs, forcing herself to roll over to the side, immediately regretting it as pain crashes into her temple akin to a wave. “Jesus Christ, just how much did I have to drink last night!?”

“Enough for my doctor’s conscience to kick in.” 

Recognition falls onto her like a bucket of ice cold water the moment she hears the voice clearly. Sitting up so quickly she’s given herself whiplash, Nicole pulls the covers closer to herself, shielding at least her body from the speaker, if she can’t hide herself fully. 

“Oh relax, nothing I haven’t seen before.” she can practically hear Shae rolling her eyes, “Ex girlfriends, remember? Or should I be driving you to the hospital to get you checked out?”

“Doesn’t too bad right now, if it will get me away from this conversation.” she mutters, hands still hiding her eyes. 

“So, little student committee president Waverly is not as innocent as she seems to be, huh?” Shae asks, tone strangely neutral, as if she were asking about the weather.

At the mention of Waverly, memories of yesterday flash before her eyes, and she feels her mood dip even further. Reaching into the drawer next to the bed, she rummages through it in search of aspirin, or at least alcohol in some form. She definitely isn’t in the right state for this conversation, especially with her ex girlfriend of all people. Ex girlfriend she’d possibly slept with last night; a thought that disturbs her more than it should. Not only for the obvious reason of her avoiding rekindlings with exes, but because it felt like cheating, like she was betraying Waverly’s trust. Which of course would have been the last thing a sane person would be worrying about, but Nicole Haught is clearly not one of them anymore, not since she’d touched Waverly and seemingly damned herself for all time.  


“Looking for this?” Shae asks, dangling a pill bottle in front of her face. 

“That would be aspirin yes, but I’m more in the mood for some whiskey right now.” because damn it, she cannot deal with her emotions well on a good day, but with wounds still raw from yesterday, and Shae sitting in front of her, all she wants is to drink until it’s all too blurry to worry about.

Shae rolls her eyes again, clearly annoyed. “The only bottles you’re touching today are this bottle of aspirin and a bottle of water to wash it down.” 

Nicole sighs, recognizing a battle she’d lose. It’s all too reminiscent of their fights when they were together, a brief affair that left them both bitter. Without a word, she does as told, wincing briefly at the bitter taste of paracetamol.

“You still haven’t answered my question, you know.”

Oh. Right. “How do you even know about it? I don’t recall telling you anything.” 

“Halfway through last night, you pulled away when you realized I wasn’t her. Muttered something about not being able to cheat on her. If only you had the same thoughts while we were together, huh?” and yet, despite all her talk of being over her, Shae does not manage to keep the bitterness away. 

Nicole wants to convince herself she broke off things with Shae because the two weren’t a match, that it had been brewing for a while and not the simple fact that the moment Waverly Earp told her she wanted her, any and all thoughts of Shae vanished from her mind, chased away for the possibility of being with Waverly, even in secret.

Cringing, she remembers how ecstatic she’d been the day after their first encounter, scoring goals and radiating such happiness some of it even transferred to Wynonna. So ecstatic, in fact, that she forgot to cover up the marks Waverly’d left on her body, only remembering them when Shae called her out on it. Ironically, it hadn’t been anything permanent, just a lipstick stain or two on her neck, but she’d been so wrapped up in her emotions to notice it. 

Shae, being the independent woman she’s always been, broke things off quickly, not even asking any hard questions.

“Sorry, Shae.” the apology, oddly, doesn’t feel forced as she says it. She truly is sorry for putting Shae through it again; Nicole of all people knows what it means to be second to someone else, especially when the position is fortified by repetition. 

Shae waves her hand in a gesture of flippance. “Think you did me a favor, to be honest; yesterday I actually thought you’d changed and wanted something between us again, this is just the push I needed. You wanna talk about it?”

“Actually,” she amends, “How about I get some bread toasted and a tall glass of juice? You need some food in you, and it just seems like a bad conversation to have while you’re half naked.” Not even waiting for an answer, Shae vanishes from the room, presumably into the kitchen.

Finally alone, she lets out a sigh she’s been holding the whole time she’s been awake. What a fucking mess she’s made. Even though she knows Shae, knows she’s not the type to gossip, the fact that she’d betrayed Waverly’s trust in that way too, causes something in her stomach to stirr. 

Disgust, she recognizes immediately. Disgust at herself for letting this happen to her. For letting someone get to her so much she feels sorry for moving on, even when she initiated the split. Ever the self saboteur, she feels as if she’d left half of herself in Waverly’s room, letting Waverly bury that part of Nicole with her refusal; because if not rejection, what was it? 

She finds herself admiring Waverly, albeit begrudgingly. How the cheerleader was able to cheat on Champ while presumably feeling something for him, is truly a mystery to Nicole, who wasn’t even able to take another to bed after Waverly. 

Mind cursedly preoccupied, she dresses herself with little grace, mostly on autopilot. She avoids the clothes she’d worn yesterday like a plague, still faintly being able to smell Waverly on them, the sweet fragrance of her perfume and natural scent. 

She quickly comes to a decision, and chuks them into the trash, not being able to take scent of her, mercilessly taunting her.

Yet, fate does not see fit to release her from the prison Waverly has her in, even for a minute, as when she drifts into the kitchen, the glass Shae has filled for her, is the same glass Waverly’s always drank from, grey with a floral pattern she bought on pure impulse some weeks into their tryst. 

She considers throwing it into the trash as well, but the presence of Shae convinces her otherwise. She doesn’t want to seem even more pathetic in front of her, so she wordlessly takes a seat and takes a quick sip, as if afraid of being burned if her lips remained on it for too long. 

“I have to admit, never took you for someone who’d play second fiddle to anyone else, especially Hardy.” 

“Shae.” she hisses, eyes shut in annoyance. 

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” she taunts, “Especially after you left me just so you’d be a quick fuck for perfect little cheerleader.” 

Never been one to mince words, Shae. she thinks, lowering her head in defeat. Spoken out loud, the words quell her anger immediately, replacing it with shame. Because most of all, Nicole is ashamed of what she’s been reduced to. Another second choice, not only to her parents, but to Waverly too. And it was Shae of all people, whom she’d hurt in pursuit of Waverly, who took care of her last night, even though her lips burned with Waverly’s name. 

Briefly, she considers if she should have even rejected Shae. At least she would have been her first choice, a voice in her mind mutters. 

Clearly, Shae decides to take pity on her, as she pushes a plate of toast towards her, face neutral once again, choosing smartly not to vocalize it. She’s known Nicole long enough to remember that she hates being pitied more than anything.

Desperate for a distraction, even a short term one, she digs into the toast with fervor not befitting of the action.

“Look,” says Shae, “All I’m trying to say is that, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’d even promise not to be mean about it, but I think you need some tough love right now.” 

She cringes at the word, without a conscious effort. 

“Right, right, sorry. Do you want more toast?

Nicole shook her head dumbly. “Believe it or not, it was just supposed to be a one time kind of deal.” she said

Shae snorted softly at that. “Clearly worked out pretty well. How’d you two even decide on it?”

“You remember the big game against the Maroon City Lions? I stayed behind in the dressing room, and there was Waverly Earp, in all her cheerleading uniform glory, marching towards me with the most determined look on her face.” reminiscing of the strange night did not come easily to Nicole, for all was much easier back when she was pining for her from afar. 

“Did the little nerd give you a pros and cons list of why you should sleep together?”

Nicole rolled her eyes, still quite not believing the fact that she’s actually talking about it with someone other than the bottle.

“I’ll have you know she just pushed me back against a locker and told me to kiss her.” the cold seeping from the glass in her hand reminds her of the steel locker digging into her back, reminds her of the dual sensation of the warmth of Waverly’s lips and hands on her and the cool steel behind her. 

“Very dramatic. Since you seem to be in the mood to share details I’d rather not hear about, is it safe to assume you two just kept going and that you caught feelings?”

Letting out a laugh devoid of any true humor, she nods. “Sounds about right.”

“So, what are you going to do about it? Don’t tell me you’re going to ignore it til it bites you in the ass. Hell, you might as well confess it to her.” though the last part was meant to be a joke, Shae did not miss the look that appeared all across Nicole’s face, telling her everything she needed to know without the words.

“You really went all out,” Shae says, incredulity coloring her voice, “Good lord, Nicole. She chose that chump over you and you’re still hung up on her? Hell, I bet if she were to call you right now, you’d run to her side like a dog.”

The force of the red hot anger filling her veins surprises even her. She expected sadness, or resignation, but Shae’s words just serve to light a fire inside of her, the reality of the situation forcing her hand. The words are cruel, but as honest as Nicole feels they are. 

Suddenly, the glass in her hands burns her hand with the memories of Waverly’s hand in hers, and she pushes it away from herself with barely restrained force. 

As if on cue, her phone rings, startling her out of her anger.

Not even bothering to see who’s calling, she puts it next to her ear. Knowing Wynonna, she’d probably failed to get to the homestead last night and needed help out of a ditch.

“Nicole?”

To her shock, it’s not Wynonna’s hungover, raspy voice that greets her, but the sweet drawl only Waverly could produce, reminiscent of the tone she’d morph into after many of their nights together. 

Fitting, she thinks, that Waverly would find it appropriate to rub salt onto the wound. 

“Called to gloat, Waverly? Maybe to tell me just how much better Champ is? You were pretty adamant about it last night.” and god damn it, with every venomous word that flees her lips, forgoing any and every filter her brain usually has in place.

She doesn’t even notice the way Shae’s eyes widen before she vacates her seat, recognizing a conversation not meant for her ears. 

“No, I just want to talk, please.” any other day, the pleading would have broken her, but not after everything, especially after the hell she’d been through.

“You’ve had your chance, Waverly. I’m not going to let you use me for your pleasure and then discard me when it gets too real for you.” it’s ironic, the way her lungs seem to work more easily with every word that she spits out, the way the mess in her head starts to clear up.

“Nicole, I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’ll explain everything, if you let me.”

The moment she tries to move on, the very same moment she puts aside her natural caregiving instincts in an attempt to heal herself, Waverly finds it fitting to walk right back into her life, blind to the chaos she’s created.

It is with that image in her head, that she hangs up, severing the connection between them in more ways than one.


	4. Echoes of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Earp sisters have a talk, and the truth comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long; I haven't really been feeling it. (but of course the moment I'm supposed to be studying for my exams, I suddenly need to get it out) Hope you enjoy this humble offering, guys!

Dusk in Purgatory is a beautiful thing, although, the sight is more often than not, ignored as its residents have grown to distrust the golden rays streaming through their windows. Purgatory was an old, unforgiving town with even more cruel winters and sweltering summers, and as such, even though the mountains framed the Sun in such an inviting way, one would realize that much like the rest of the town, the warmth was an illusion.

Waverly has felt the traitorous rays on her skin more times in her life than she cares to count; and yet, she's never quite felt so cold as she does in this moment. Because with time the cold morphs into a pleasant chill, but even with the tea pooling in her stomach and soothing her insides, she finds it irritating instead of comforting, as her thoughts are muffled and all over the place. So much so, that she’s taken to painstakingly polishing an old set of china, just so she could give her wandering thoughts a target. A target that most definitely isn’t Nicole Haught.

The set of china isn’t even precious, just a little something their mother won during the annual purgatory fair, but Waverly’s been handling it with care akin to one of an art restorer. Hell, she’d not even stopped to chide Wynonna for drinking at 4 PM, and it seems that her sister, who is not so oblivious as Waverly seems to think, decides to do away with the uncomfortable silence that has been lingering in the room for the last few hours. 

“Do I need to beat up Champ or something? Because babygirl, I assure you I’ve been practicing for that moment for a while.” the question actually causes her brain to shortcircuit for a moment, as the sheer incredulity forces her to blink. Bless you, Wynonna, you and your allergy to anything resembling tact. 

“What, no, Wynonna! No need to beat up anyone, I don’t think you should make poor Nedley fill out another folder for your dossier. It’s a wonder he hasn’t sent us a bill for all the ink.” 

“Very funny, Wave.” Wynonna rolls her eyes, obviously not so keen on the joke, “Seriously though, you do know you can tell me anything thats bothering you, right? And just like that, the chains pool in her stomach once again, pulling at her insides. 

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just nervous for tomorrow’s game, you know? The cheer routine is our most complex one yet and Ms. Robinson told me that if do good, she’ll make me captain.”

“Oooh, scratch that, do you want me to beat up Stephanie Jones so you get the spot for sure?” the glee in Wynonna’s eye as she suggest it actually worries Waverly a little bit; sure, her fellow cheerleader was a lot on a good day, but otherwise alright.

“Nonna! Is this your way of telling me you have no faith in me?”

“What, no! You know I’m your biggest fan, right? I know you’re gonna do great, kiddo.” 

“Thanks, Nonna.”

“Anytime. Now, I really have to go practice for the game tomorrow. Captain Haughtie made me promise to come or she’d throw away the whiskey I’ve stashed at her house.” 

Moments later, she’s left alone in the rickety old homestead. With a sigh, she puts the china back. 

The world violently swims into focus as her body arches up, lungs desperate for breath and heart pounding wildly against her ribcage, like a madman rattling against the chains that bind it. Air seems a prescious commodity even as she's acutely aware that she needs it; each breath just sends her deeper into the pit of her own fiery emotions, stoking the flames of guilt that rest deeply in her subconsciousness. 

It's only after the door to her room opens with a clang, that she realizes the reason the world's been blurry are the tears streaming down her face. She tries to wipe them off with the hem of her pyjamas, but gentle hands on hers still her. Blinking, she realizes it's Wynonna. She must have woken her up. Not for the first time she curses the Homestead's thin walls. 

She cannot even pretend to feel bad to have woken her, not this time. Selfishly, she clings to Wynonna, burying her face into her sister's chest without a word. 

"Oh, Waves." Wynonna murmurs into her hair, probably as to not to spook her. Usually, Wynonna's awkward with physical touch, but not this time; her hands are sure, without an ounce of hesitation as she hugs back with fervor, accepting the change in their usual roles seamlessly. 

"What's wrong?" it's the way that Wynonna asks, soft and unassuming, just like her mother used to before she left, just like Nicole after Waverly would show up to her house, shaken after one of the many fights with Champ, that forces the dam to crumble , the mighty walls she's built around herself to their knees. 

"I'm a terrible person, Wynonna." she hiccups, not even having the guts to look her own sister in the face before she reveals her true colors, her lies. 

Even more uncharacteristically, Wynonna doesn't interrupt her with words of valor, just grips her tighter, grounding her. 

"I've been cheating on Champ for the past year. I just wanted to get back at him, y'know? At first at least. I needed to feel wanted, to be able to look at myself in the mirror without questioning whether I was good enough for anyone, whether Champ was right." and oh, how woefully inadequate he'd made her feel , time after time, with every girl that passed through his hands, the same hands that would later touch her, even while still dirty with the secrets of other women's bodies. 

"Hell, I'm glad you found someone else. Though he will have to pass through a few hoops with me - gotta make sure he's good enough for you, because you're the best thing that will ever happen to him." 

The words just make her cry harder, a reminder of the fact that she still has one secret left, a dirty little secret she thinks her sister might not even forgive.

"Wave, Wave, look I was joking alright?" Wynonna tries to soothe, "If he's good enough for you, then he's good enough for me, so long as he actually makes you happy." 

"She does, god, Wynonna she makes me so happy and I broke her heart." the words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself, the words hanging in the air, and for a millisecond she actually contemplates pushing Wynonna away and running off into the night, just like Nicole did when faced with her own rejection. Ironic how it took her so long to finally figure out what Nicole must have felt in the moments after her confession, the crushing weight of waiting for an answer that might not even come.

"Then I can't wait to meet her, Waves. I don't care that she's a woman; Nicole is my best friend, remember? She's the biggest lesbian I know. Apparently not the only one," she winks down at her, once again trying to salvage the situation with humor, and Waverly's left flabbergasted once more at how unconditionally accepted she's feeling.

Maybe that's what pushes her to reveal the last bit of information, to pull the band-aid right off the cut. "I love Nicole." and the first time she says it out loud, she's amazed at how easy it is, just like breathing - what she thought would be a gasp, barely capable of slipping out of her mouth, is a confident revelation that flows out smoothly, as if it had been preparing itself for its departure for the longest time, and she's smiling, she realizes, as the stones fall from her heart, pulling the frown with them.

"Oh I love her too, babygirl, best friend, remember? Though don't tell her, she's going to be smug about it."

"No, Wynonna. I love her." 

Wynonna's hands slip from her shoulders, as a frown comes across her face, before a look of utter murderous contempt replaces it.

"I can't fucking believe her! She's been taking advantage of your feelings! I'm going to murder her for playing with you."

"No, don't you fucking dare put this on her, Wynonna! You know as well as I do that she's not like that. If anything," she grits out, "You should be mad at me. I'm the one who's been using her for the longest time and it's tearing me apart. I did to her what Champ did to me, and you know what she did? She took it all in stride, and stared me directly in the face and told me she loved me. She's the one that ended it, as she well should have, Wynonna. Because I was a selfish prick who didn't deserve her ."

Wynonna blinks at the rambling torrent that left her, and for a moment, her sister, who always has something to say, whether it be funny or sarcastic, is silent. 

"Jesus, babygirl." she finally speaks out, confused but without anger, "You really did a number on her."

"I know."

"And honestly, if you weren't my sister, I'd probably chew you out in Haught's name. You seem to have done enough of it yourself, though. So I suppose what's left for me to ask is, what's the battleplan?"

"Battleplan?" 

"Yeah," she nods, "Operation Haught romance."

"I have no idea, Wynonna. She doesn't even want to speak to me. Like, the glare you said she leveled at Champ the other day? It wasn't aimed at him, she was looking straight at me."

"Well, not so straight in your case,"

"Wynonna!"

"Sorry, sorry. What we need to do is get you two lovebirds alone so you can tell her what you've told me, and if she really loves you as you say, she's going to listen to you and let you fix it."

"You don't think she's going to tell me off?"

"Not a chance in Hell. She might be a pain in my ass more often than not, but she’s good people.”

“She’s the best.” Waverly agrees readily.

“Ugh! You’re so in love, little sis. Keep the heart eyes away from me!”

Waverly rolls her eyes, punching Wynonna lightly in the arm, but for the first time in the last couple of days, she laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Accepting prompts on my tumblr, so feel free to hmu.


	5. Happy To Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally seem to be looking up. Will it last?

The Sun is unforgiving on Nicole’s back as she pummels her fist into the boxing dummy hung on the tree in her backyard. She feels sweat rolling down her back, staining the grey of her tank top, but she pushes forward, channeling her negative energy into her fist, just to release it into the wild moments later. Just like her grandfather taught her when she was little.

Her leg moves upward in a kick, that pushes the dummy to her left, just for her fist to swing right at it, and center it once more. 

“Damn, Haught, what did that dummy did to you? Don’t tell me you’re going to bail on hockey to abuse poor, defenseless boxing dummies?” asks Wynonna, apparently amused at her attempt at boxing.

“Yeah? I wouldn’t dare leave the team to you, Earp, God knows you’re as good at scoring goals as at finding good boyfriends.” which seems to run in the family, she thinks bitterly, heart still skipping a beat at the thought of Waverly. Even days after their last tryst, Waverly seems to be doing just fine; still the perfect cheerleader with her jerk of a boyfriend and fake friends, while all Nicole seems to be capable of doing is wallowing and drowning her sorrows in hockey or boxing. It’s absolutely unfair, she thinks, how unaffected Waverly seems by all of it. 

The thought just brings her fists down, along with her mood. 

Seeming to sense the change, Wynonna tries to kick the dummy in the head, but just manages to fall down instead, something Nicole suspects was on purpose; still she cannot deny the sight is amusing, even as Wynonna grumbles and shakes the dirt of her jacket.

“Haught, I changed my mind, “ she grouses, glaring at the dummy, “You should beat the shit out of this loser, I almost ripped my favorite jeans because of it!” 

“Wynonna didn’t you puke on them the first time you tried sake?” 

“Exactly! They’ve been on me and with me in my worst moments. I can’t lose them to some ugly dummy.” and bless her, Wynonna actually looks offended, levelling a death glare the dummy’s way. 

“Right,” she answers dryly, “I’ll make sure to revenge your dignity.”

“Knew I could count on ya, Haughtie!” she compliments, clapping Nicole on the shoulder, unfazed by the dampness of it. “Soo, do you wanna hang out tonight? Two barstools at Shorty’s are calling our names!”

Blinking, Nicole considers the offer. She likes hanging out with Wynonna, she really does; never a dull moment with the older Earp, but she attracts trouble like a magnet, which would be fine if she didn’t always immediately jump on it, dragging Nicole with her.Even if she promised herself she’d move on, she cannot deny herself the opportunity to see how the younger Earp is doing. Especially if Wynonna just lets it slip. Not to mention that Shae has taken to coming over recently, bringing take out and movies with her. All too reminiscent of the nights they used to spend together before they broke up. She’s not blind, contrary to what Shae seems to think; she notices the lingering glances, ‘accidental’ touches or buttons she leaves undone, trying to draw her gaze. 

Nicole’s pretty sure Shae’s trying to reconcile with her, even after everything, which just makes her even more disappointed in herself for not being strong enough to call her out on it and set them straight, but try as she might, she doesn’t want to be alone. The more time they spend together, watching a dumb romcom or cop movie, she feels more like herself, even if her old self would have jumped at Shae, quite literally, the moment she showed interest. 

She’s aware that she feels little guilt for the way she’s misleading Shae, who takes her silence as a sign to keep on doing what she’s doing. So yes, a night out with Wynonna, especially after the game today, seems like a respite from their standoff.

“Dude! It’s a simple yes-no question, why’d you space out? I swear, if you’re thinking of doing super special awesome lesbian things with someone…”

“Sure, it’s a date, Earp.”

“Please, the only date I’m having is with my favorite buddy, Jack Daniels. Already had a date yesterday, but I’m always down for more of him.” she winks

“You went drinking without me? I’m offended, Wyn.” 

“Oh you know,” she answers, seemingly disinterested, “Chump finally got the memo that they’re done, so Waverly and I celebrated.” 

Nicole just stares at her, cogs working on overdrive in her brain at the new influx of information. Wynonna, even as oblivious as she is, notices her shock immediately, but strangely doesn’t make a scalding joke about it. Instead, she just shrugs.

“Yeah, I was as shocked as you are. Speaking of shock, did you know Waverly likes girls too? She likes someone, but didn’t wanna tell me who it is. Not that I don’t get it, you can’t out people and all, but you have a gaydar, did you know?” If Wynonna only knew how well she was acquainted with that part of Waverly, Nicole’s sure she would have been in place of the boxing dummy, hanging off the tree like a sacrifice to Odin.

“Oh you know, “she tries to act flippant, internally sweating. She’s never been much of an actor, too expressive, as her mother would say. “I suspected, but as you said, you can’t out people.”

“Oh shit, can it be Shae? Your ex?” Wynonna looks positively sick at the thought, and Nicole sympathises, as it stirs the same emotions in her.

“I’m pretty sure Shae wants us to hook up again, so I doubt it. Waverly never did like her, though.” and what an understatement that is. Waverly, even without any right to it, always got jealous whenever she saw Shae with Nicole, even after the two broke up. Shae didn’t just roll with the punches, but actively sought out Nicole on purpose, when she knew the Earp was near. It was an infuriating game, even with Nicole’s attempts to prevent it.

“And you don’t want her back?” Wynonna asks, strangely interested in the matter. Something Nicole makes a mental note of. Wynonna usually didn’t care who she ended up with, so long as it didn’t prevent her from spending time with the other woman. 

“Not at all. That part of my life is done and over with.” she answers, the truth coming out easily.

“Right. I gotta run, Dolls is taking me to Shorty’s for pancakes. Speaking of, don’t be late! If you’re late, I’ll tell the bartender that I’m drinking on your tab!”

Blanching at the possible bill she’d have to pay, she nods her head quickly, making a mental note to get there extra early, just in case. You can never outdrink an Earp.

-  
The moment Wynonna leaves, her phone rings. Cautious, she makes sure to see the caller ID before pressing ‘accept’ she’s learned her lesson well from last time. She tries to keep the surprise out of her tone when she answers.

“Hey dad,” she greets, scenarios of whatever could have happened for her parents to call her. Usually, they’d just text her if they needed anything.Calls were rare, almost nonexistent ever since she moved to Purgatory in order to play for their hockey team.

“Nicky, it’s good to hear your voice. Your mother and I miss you terribly.” Nicole rolls her eyes, glad it cannot be seen through the phone. Always acting the role of a perfect family, they couldn’t let the masks down even in a call. “We’ve seen your grades and scores as of recently. We cannot stress how proud we are for you for finally reaching your potential. We knew you’d fix your grades if you just focused on it. Good job, Nicole.”

Nicole swallows at the words, choking up at how sincere they sound, especially coming from a man who hasn’t complimented her in months. She even registers a touch of warmth in the words too, something she thought was long lost ever since she told them she wanted to become a cop; wasted potential in a family of lawyers and businessmen. Yet, she’s reminded of the fact that she got better because of Waverly, who tutored her in math, even when she noticed that even the basic concepts seemed foreign to her, who got through her former high school with the power of her family’s connections, rather than her knowledge; she’d been even more focused on hockey back then, sickeningly so. Waverly took the time to explain it to her, with the patience of a goddamn saint, unknowingly motivating Nicole to do better just so she could see the million dollar smile she adopted when Nicole did something right.

And she swallows again, because of a different reason, a much more somber one. “Thank you, dad. I’m glad you guys are happy.”

“About that… your mother and I might have overreacted a bit when we transferred you to Purgatory because you want to become a cop. I guess what I’m saying is; you’re welcome home if you want to come back. We’re ready to make this work again.”

A way out. Unknowingly, her parents had given her a way out of the mess her life had become in Purgatory. A chance to take her old life back, the parties, her friends, the colors of her old team, and yet, Nicole feels unease at the offer. Her parents are acting out of character, like real parents should, and to her, the sudden acceptance feels surreal. Too surreal to be real, perhaps. 

“I’ll consider it, dad. I think I should at least finish a semester here before I leave, no matter the decision I make.”

“Responsible as always,” he counters, and she can almost see him nodding in approval, “Of course, Nicky. You just tell us what you’ve decided and we’ll handle the rest. In the meantime, you should probably check your door, we had Wallace drop something off. I have to go to take a business call now, we’ll talk more later.”

More confused than ever, she makes her way to the front porch, immediately taking notice of an impeccably wrapped black box, her mother’s handiwork no doubt, and traces the white bow wrapped around it with a finger. 

She unwraps it carefully, as if she were handling a bomb wired to explode, which seemed likely at the moment, with how strange her father had acted. What greets her is a Montreal Stars’ hockey jersey, and a signature in neat handwriting scrawled on the back, dedicating the jersey to her. 

Beneath it is a single bottle of champagne, along with a note from her mother, wishing her well. 

Hugging the box to her chest, she allows herself to smile.

-  
The air in the dressing room is sizzling with tension, pent up energy condensed in a small space; she senses her team’s distress; understanding full well how warranted it is. Although they took off well in the beginning, their opponents, Newland Tigers are last year’s champions, ready to knock the relative newcomers to the league down a few pegs. Nicole, who got promoted to Captain in record time, divides her team as much as she unites it; old players who got used to the way Eliza Shapiro had handled things, did not approve of her leadership, deeming her too demanding or strict. 

The tension is especially tangible now, as Purgatory Devils are one of the contenders for the crown.

She tries to ignore Shapiro, as the goalie glares at her. 

“Alright, team,” Wynonna hollers, standing up from her seat, “You guys ready to kick some ass? Drinks on me and Haught if any of you score a goal!”

“Earp!” chides Nedley, his moustache trembling.

“Relax, coach. I meant a drink freshly squeezed juice! I swear, you jump to the worst conclusions!”

“Right,” he grumbles, clearly unamused at Wynonna’s antics. Nicole though, she recognizes it for what it is; Wynonna, even with her bravado, is nervous, and it’s somehow amusing to Nicole, who’s strangely not on the same page; she finds herself feeling eager, excitement flooding her veins with adrenaline. 

Nedley nods at her, giving her the cue to talk. She stands up, hockey stick resting over her shoulder as she glances about, assessing her team.

“I don’t think you need me to tell you we’re not the favorites, but have we ever really been? Is there a better feeling than victory after everyone had ruled you out? Sure, they have fancy jerseys and a sponsorship, but what they lack is the soul this team has. Let’s go and show them what we can do, and win the damn trophy.”

Her little speech is met by affirmative hollers, and she doesn’t even look at Nedley as she walks out of the room.

The moment she walks out into the court, her bravado leaves her, as she spots her parents sitting on one of the benches, suited up and looking perfectly composed as always. Her mother spots her first, waving at her, and she slowly brings her hand up in an awkward half wave. 

Glancing at them just causes her stomach to coil, adrenaline in her bloodstream slowly diminishing as her gaze remains fixed on her parents, feeling like the defendant awaiting judgement from the whole court.

They don’t even acknowledge her distress, eyes fixed on the cheer squad as they finish their routine, and Nicole feels her gaze, despite herself, drawn to the show as well. 

Drawn to Waverly, as she goes for a spin, lithe muscles of her legs spasming in a well practiced dance. She’s moving with grace, following the music. She goes for a final jump, landing with a shout of “Go, Devils!” to thunderous applause from both the crowd and the two teams, and just like that, Nicole is caught, as Waverly’s eyes focus on her, a smile fighting its way onto her face, soft and reassuring.

Nicole feels herself smiling back at her, before she can even register the action. At her response, Waverly beams, growing even more radiant as she walks past her, wishing her luck.

It’s only after she walks off, that she realizes the feelings of dread and unease the younger Earp awakened in the last few days are gone, replaced by something very similar to butterflies. 

And Nicole sees her parents no longer, just the image of Waverly Earp smiling at her.

Later, when they’re climbing onto the podium, the arena cheering for them and their unlikely victory, with even her parents applauding, she pays them no mind, deaf to the noise and their gazes, as their eyes lock once again, and for the first time in days, Nicole feels hope filling her chest, slowly mending her broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	6. Arcade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk, face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments! I hope you'll like the way the story is going. :)

There's nothing like observing Nicole as she focuses on the puck,gliding across the court, long legs, even hidden by her jersey bottoms, moving gracefully, bending on need or whim of the owner. Nicole's always been a dramatic player, doing flips and movements flamboyantly, without being conscious of it at this point. It's second nature to her, Waverly thinks, to demand attention of the room selfishly, putting herself at the center, but doing so covertly, as if she were the one doing the others a favor, not the other way around.

Waverly's no different, eyes frozen on the redhead, whose movements seem to be as skillful as ever, perhaps even more so today, given the crowd. She hadn't recognized her parents, not at first, until she caught Nicole staring at them, and the way her face fell at the motion, along with how she seemed to drag her body towards the center of the room, like a prisoner walking towards the executioner.

In that moment, as she watched her mood wither away, she finally recognized the redheaded couple sitting on the bleachers, dressed too formally for a sports game.

Waverly's guts rolled in her stomach when she noticed them looking down at her, as she was finishing the routine they'd picked for today, her foot slipping on the last jump, before Chrissy caught her, preventing further accidents. She ignored Stephanie Jones' glare as they turned their backs to the crowd, finally facing Nicole, who was staring right back at her, as if she were looking for something to latch on and escape.

The way she was looking at her makes Waverly to forget everything other than Nicole and her distressed call.A reassuring smile blossomed on her lips, one she hoped managed to relay the comforting thoughts swirling in her head.

Moments later, when Nicole’s face bloomed, eyes focused once more, she knew she’s a goner.

Watching her now, effortlessly evading her rivals while commanding the rest of her team, Waverly would have never thought she'd been nervous at all, if she hadn't smiled back at her.

It's not that she doesn't notice the other players; Wynonna's her sister after all, a valued team member, the only one whose strikes are powerful enough to rival Nicole's, but her goals don’t cause her heart to skip in excitement, as if Waverly herself had scored.

Ever so often, she glances at Nicole's parents, who are watching the display silently, but intently, their gazes never once shifting away from the field, even as Mr. Haught’s phone rings.

No, the intensity with which they're watching is almost predatory in nature, and Waverly suddenly understands why Nicole doesn't keep any family pictures in her house. She wouldn't be able to sleep with them staring at her either.

Especially her father, who looks intimidating even as he nods approvingly at Nicole when she scores a goal, as if she was just doing what was expected of her, the bare minimum, even. He reminds her of the way Ward used to look at her, with silent contempt reserved only for his youngest daughter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the other cheerleaders looking at her, no doubt wondering why she of all people is watching the game.Truth is, Waverly doesn't even know the result; she's too busy staring at Nicole, as she throws her helmet off, panting with exertion, and managing to look absolutely delectable even as she's drinking water from the bottle, a bit spilling past her lips and making its way down her slender throat, obstructed by the jersey. 

Unlike her, though, she's focused only on the field, even during the break, her eyes swiftly taking in the state of the rival team, who seems as exhausted as the Purg Devils are, without sparing the crowd a glance.

Coach calls out loudly, signaling for them to get back in the game, and she swears her heart stops beating when their eyes collide before Nicole has her helmet back on, and averts her gaze.

Maybe that's why she finds herself cheering for them rather loudly only moments later, shouting until her throat is hoarse, along with the rest of her friends, who join her, following whatever the head cheerleader does.

Wynonna seems to appreciate the attention, as she salutes the crowd before doing a quick spin, avoiding the player with the number 13 printed on the back, but Waverly doesn't even notice if she scored or not, as her eyes find Nicole again, who seems to be trapped between two other girls.

  
Just as she pulls back, trying to get the puck away from their side of the field, number 13 misses the puck, colliding with Nicole’s leg instead, who falls down, to the horror of the crowd, which goes eerily silent, waiting with baited breath for her reaction, but never her father, who just looks on, unimpressed.

  
To her horror, Waverly realizes the gasp she let out was more like a scream, as Chrissy stares at her, trying to placate her by rubbing her back.

 Wynonna’s by Nicole’s side almost immediately, and she can tell they’re talking, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear it. She exhales with relief when Nicole grasps Wynonna’s hand, getting back on her feet. 

As if she wasn't just on the floor, she nods at the coach and lines up for a shot silently, seemingly unaffected by the hit, and the crowd goes wild. Even her parents, who've been stony during the whole game, start to clap.

* * *

 There’s a spring in Waverly’s steps that hasn’t been present in some time, as she twirls around her room, heaps of clothes strewn about the cozy room. Carefully ironed dresses, now lay crumpled on the floor without a second thought from the owner.

Waverly’s mind is in a similar state; usually, her mind is loud, buzzing with random factoids or observations, but now it’s focused on one thing only; the redheaded hockey player who smiled at her.

People would always say that Waverly’s smile was radiant, but when Nicole smiled, she did it with her whole being, lighting up the room immediately, pulling threads of emotion right out of Waverly without her even being conscious of it. The smile made her feel warm, loved, and she could only hope she managed to have a similar effect on Nicole.

_You’re a goner, Waverly Earp_ , she thinks, fully aware of how ridiculous it is that one smile from Nicole lights up her thoughts, how she feels hope coming alive in her heart, that maybe, she would be forgiven. 

Slow down over there, cowboy, she tells herself, unsuccessfully trying to tame the excitement building in her brain.

 Throwing herself onto the bed, she doesn't even notice she's landed on one of her favorite dresses, a slim red number that Wynonna always told her would be the death of any boy that saw her wearing it.

"Jesus, Wynonna," she curses, as the sound of glass breaking assaults her ears. Why is it that it's her who always has to take care of her sister? Shouldn't it be the other way around, with Wynonna being the older one?

"Babygirl..." Wynonna slurs as she spots Waverly coming down with a broom and dustpan, equipped to take care of the mess.

"Yes, 'Nonna?" she responds distractedly, as she loads up the big glass pieces into the pan.

"You know you and Nicole are going to be the gayest thing since christmas? God, I can't wait to make fun of you both for being disgusting."

At that, something within Waverly snaps, and she drops the dustpan she was holding in her hands. Coming from her sister, she knows the comment is meant to provoke a smile or even a laugh, but all Waverly sees are the disapproving faces of her classmates, judging her.

Wynonna doesn't seem to be phased, though, merely continuing on with her rant. "I can just imagine you two getting picked the 'most likely couple to stay together' at prom. Hell, I already see her staring at you with puppy dog eyes as you finish your valedictorian speech. You two are hopeless, bleh."

and Waverly, ever the coward, pulls back. "My stomach kinda hurts, 'Nonna. I don't think I can make it tonight." which isn't quite a lie, as she does feel quite sick, disappointed in herself for valuing the opinions of other people over her happiness. Still, she can't lead Nicole on, she doesn't deserve a girlfriend who's ashamed of being seen with her.

"Wave," she rolls her eyes, "We've been over this already. Stop being a pussy and get some." 

"Wynonna!"

"And her heart or whatever, you know I'm not good at the lovey doey stuff."

She opens her mouth to argue, but Wynonna beats her to it.

"Don't you dare say you're scared or some shit. You know full well both Nicole and I will make sure no one looks at you the wrong way. And even if they do, why do you care? You're leaving this hellhole when you graduate anyway, right?"

"I am but-"

"Alright, then." she says, shrugging. "Lemme just call Nicole and tell her I'm bailing on her."

"No, no, don't do that!"

"I won't, if you promise me you're going too. I'm too tired of you two looking mopey and sad all the time, for christ's sake. I haven't been this bored since I watched Mean Girls 2."  

"... Thanks, 'Nonna"

"Anytime, kiddo. Gotta make sure you have someone to protect you from the horrors of bad chick flick movies you seem to like so much."

* * *

Although she expected a crowd, Wavelry's still shocked when she enters Shorty's, the whole place smelling of cheap beer and bad cologne; probably the courtesy of the male soccer team. Scrunching her nose at the sight, she ducks inside, trying to find Wynonna and Nicole.

To say she's surprised when she finds Nicole talking to Shae Pressman, is not sufficient. No, she feels absolutely livid, as the brunette smiles at Nicole, hand coming to rest on the devil mascot of the hockey team, sewn into the fabric of her blue letterman.

"Excuse me," she says, probably too loudly at the glare Shae gives her. Plastering her famous fake smile onto her face, looks down onto the girl, for once coming across as taller, given her seated position.

"Waverly, how nice to see you here. Champ is over there, if you're looking for him." says Shae, wearing a replica of the same sickly sweet smile, her hand still glued to Nicole's arm even as she speaks. She's relieved to see Nicole doesn't seem to appreciate the touch all that much. 

Waverly also notices the way Nicole cringes at the mention of his name. Happy to clear that misconception up, she shakes her head.

"Oh, I broke up with him. I've got my eye on much hotter people, now." responds Waverly, drawing out the os, along with a slight smile from Nicole. _Haughter_ indeed, Wynonna would be proud of the pun.

"I'm happy to hear it, Wave," Nicole speaks up, finally pulling away from Shae. "You deserve better.”

But does she deserve Nicole? Lips burning with the unspoken question, she shrugs, trying to act flippant, at least in front of Shae. "I've already got my eye on someone, I'm just not sure how to approach her."

"Oh? I think you're doing just fine, Wave." and god, the way Nicole's eyes are shining pulls the breath out of her lungs.

"Excuse me," says Shae, "I think I need a drink." with that, she gathers her purse, having gotten sufficiently uncomfortable between the two.

"Quite the bold outfit choice, Ms. Earp." teases Nicole, eyes unashamedly dancing across her body, lingering on the skin of her stomach uncovered by the crop top she's wearing. Mentally, she gives herself a high five for the outfit choice.

"I've noticed that bold women usually get what they want, and I want someone very very much."

As if broken from a trance, Nicole pulls away, retreating back into her space. Seconds later, when she feels familiar hands on her waist, she realizes why.

“Hey babe..” mumbles Champ, his stubble scratching the back of her neck as he tries to nuzzle her, despite her tensing up at the touch.

“Champ, get off. We’re not together anymore, remember?” she hisses, trying to keep her voice down. Last thing she needs is attention drawn to them.

“C’mon, you can’t still be mad. I said sorry!” he manages to sound indignant, as if she was the one wronging him by trying to get him off. Unfortunately, his grip proves to be unrelenting, especially at how tipsy he seems to be.

She notices the way Nicole’s jaw clenches all the while, as she stands up from her seat, observing Champ. 

“She said to get off, Hardy. I suggest you do so before it gets ugly.”

Waverly sucks in a breath, as his grip gets even tighter in response to Nicole’s words, who immediately recognizes the panic in Waverly’s eyes.

Taking a step closer to Champ, she diverts his attention enough for him to relax his grip slightly, before Waverly manages to elbow him, and falls out of his grip.

Immediately, Nicole’s by her side, pulling her close. Waverly accepts the touch eagerly, folding herself into Nicole.

“Jesus Wave, why’d you do that? You on your period or something?”

Now free from his grip, she allows herself to roll her eyes at the absolute man child she used to date. “Just go away, Champ.”

He blinks owlishly, just now registering her position next to Nicole. “Are you into chicks now or something? Gay?” curse him, Champ actually manages to stress that last part, perfectly timed as music stops before the next song starts playing.

Waverly’s heart jumps to her throat as she feels them staring at her. Yet, Nicole’s grip, surprisingly, goes slack, allowing her to back away if she wants so. That simple gesture, the fact that she’s still her priority, even while it obviously hurts Nicole to do so, has Waverly inching even closer, staring right at Champ.

But try as she might, she cannot manage to get her mouth to open and respond to him. Anxiety eats away at her thoughts, even the fragile peace she’s made with being an outcast, traces of selfishness still rooted deep in her heart.

And she’s so disappointed in herself, in her inability to act and stick to whatever she’s decided on.

Before she can open her mouth, Nicole beats her to it, huffing out an answer. “Doesn’t take a gay woman to know you’re a bad one to date, Chump.”

  
He actually manages to look sufficiently embarrassed as laughs rumble around them. Recovering remarkably quickly, he makes a step towards the two of them, a frown cutting deep into his face.  
  
"Haught, look I know you’re the resident dyke or something, but don’t go there making my girl gay, if you know what’s good for you.” he growls. So encompassed was he in looking threatening, that he didn’t notice Wynonna behind him before it was too late. 

Waverly hears a sickening crunch as Wynonna’s fist collides with the skin of his nose, and he falls over, grasping his nose with both hands.

“That’s for insulting Haught, asshat. Only I get to do that.” says Wynonna, glaring down at the soccer player, who doesn’t even respond to her, too busy with stopping the bleeding.

“Nice right hook, Earp.” whistles Nicole, looking _impressed._ Waverly cannot deny she felt a sick sense of satisfaction out of it too.

“You’re welcome, Captain. Gotta make sure you’re still around to win us some more titles.” she winks, visibly uncomfortable with the sentiment.

By now, the crowd seems to have lost interest in their little spat, except for Champ’s soccer buddies, who are helping him up.

“Well, that’s definitely not how I thought this would go, can’t say I’m complaining, though. It did get me into the arms of the girl I like.” she winks up at Nicole, but instead of looking pleased, Nicole looks uncomfortable, releasing her from her grip, now that the initial struggle is over with.

Immediately, upon seeing the distress her actions have caused, Waverly pulls back a step, giving Nicole the space she so desperately needs. Still, Waverly cannot hide the way her face falls at the motion, the hurt she’s feeling.

“Look, Waves,” Nicole begins, “I think we should talk. In private.”

  
“Of course.” Waverly answers readily. On a rational level, the opportunity is exactly what she’s wanted for days, but now that they’re actually there, about to talk, all she feels is dread.

 

She leads her to the stock room, a sparsely decorated room with two chairs and a small table. Sitting in one, she waits for Nicole to do so as well, but the redhead shakes her head, pacing around the room, hand in hair.

“What do you want from me, Waverly?” the way Nicole’s voice breaks, how she cannot even finish the sentence in one breath has Waverly’s knees weak, in the worst possible way. Because she knows she’s the one causing the rift between them. Hell, even when Nicole’s supposed to be celebrating her victory, she’s stuck in a closet with Waverly, putting her needs before her own, again, but instead of making Waverly feel good about being put first for once, it makes her miserable, knowing Nicole is.

What does she want, really? She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, before she changes her mind. “It’s not about what I want, anymore. It’s about what you want, Nicole. Do you want me?”

“I can’t believe you’re still asking me that. Of course I do, Waverly. But it’s clear you don’t want me back, at least not the way I want you.”

“What do you mean, Nicole?”

At the incredulous look Nicole gives her, Waverly feels like a little girl once again, staring up at papa as he caught her looking around his room, looking for a lost toy. “Of course you don’t get it.” but it’s at the disappointment in her tone that Waverly starts losing the feeling in her legs, panic gnawing away at her brain.

“Just now, you couldn’t even stand up to Champ, a certified loser, but you somehow want me to believe you want me enough to be with me? I can’t let you hide me again, Waverly.” she stresses, “I _won’t._ ”

Waverly’s throat closes up as she realizes that she doesn’t have an argument, no number of apologies could make up for how much she’s been hurting Nicole, even as she comes to understand the depths of her feelings towards the redhead. If anything, she seems to have made it worse.

Nicole seems to look even more uncomfortable now, throwing her body onto the chair, losing her footing, metaphorical and physical.

Waverly aches with the need to reach out and comfort her, to relay with her gestures what she cannot with words.

“Worst part of it all,” Nicole chokes out, looking more miserable by the second, “is that I cannot even bring myself to hate you for it.”

“Good,” she rushes out, before confidence can leave her “Because saying ‘I love you too’ to ‘I hate you’ wouldn’t really work out.” standing up, she nears Nicole, who looks absolutely flabbergasted, jaw falling open slightly.

“Because I do, Nicole! I love you so much my chest hurts whenever I think of you not being aware of it! Who wouldn’t right? You’re kind, amazing and can rock button ups! What’s not to love, really? Except you sleep with the fan on that’s kind of annoying but-”

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Waverly nods so fast she can almost feel her head spinning, “so so much!”

“And yet you cannot admit it to other people?”

Back to grilling, then. Waverly’s slightly disappointed that the shock from her confession didn’t last. “It’s not-”

“Let me guess, you’re already an Earp and don’t want the added stigma of being the gay Earp too? Figures, it’s always been about how you feel.”

“Nicole, I cannot come out in front of dozens of people!”

“I’m not asking you to climb a hill and shout that you’re gay atop your lungs. I’m asking you not to hide, to avoid holding hands in public.”

She feels her cheeks reddening, as shame consumes her once more. “I can do that,” she mutters in a quiet voice, lip quivering.

 “It’s obvious you’re not ready for it,” Nicole dismisses her answer with a wave of her hand, “I don’t think I’m ready to jump into a relationship now either. You didn’t really think you could just tell me you love me and that I’d forget everything and accept you immediately?”

She did, and it must show on her face, as Nicole lets out a laugh that’s more out of misery than anything else. “Of course you did. Look, Wave. We need to take it slow, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I appreciate you confessing your love to me, but it doesn’t immediately solve all our problems.”

Somewhat assured by Nicole’s answer, she nods. As much as she’d want to be with  her, forever and always, she cannot deny Nicole the choice she deserves.

“Are we going to be okay?”

“I know we will.”

 


	7. i wanna be your girlfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you haven't given up on this story. Thank you for your kind comments and kudos, it always makes me happy.

When Coach Nedley finally manages to find her, Nicole is in the dressing room, hunched against the wall, pressing her leg gently against the cold floor in an effort to ease the pain. It’s not debilitating, not exactly, as Nicole’s had her fair share of injuries, since her gear had soaked up most of the force behind the hit, but it was still enough to bruise. 

“I knew that injury of yours is more serious than you let on, kid.” his moustache quivers as he speaks, and Nicole can see the worry swirling in his eyes. Despite the former cop’s reputation of being nonchalant no matter what life throws at him, she knows the man has a heart of gold; he’d been a cop, after all. That alone was part of the reason why Nicole even accepted to play for a team that seemingly had no chance in the big leagues. 

“Coach,” she greets respectfully, eyes still glued to the floor. “Shouldn’t you be out there, rubbing our victory in Del Rey’s face?” 

“Absolutely.” he agrees, “how can I do it without my star player there?”

“I’m sure you’d do fine, sir.” even with her tone being somewhat nonchalant, Nicole practically preens at the praise, especially after the last few days she’s had. It’s vaguely humiliating; how even the most off handedly given praise renders her speechless. Yet, Nicole cannot bring herself to feel bad about it.

“Now, why are you sitting here, looking like a drowned rat? Earp’s already downed half her body mass in vodka.”

“You know about her stash?” Nicole asks, momentarily forgetting about the tear stains on her face. Nedley either doesn’t notice, or more likely, ignores it for her sake.

“You kids aren’t as slick as you think you are. I used to be a cop, remember? Seen my fair share of vodka in water bottles.” he snorts, arms in front of his chest.

Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in attention, Nicole wipes at her face with the towel at her feet. With the evidence of her lapse in control taken off, she forces herself to look straight at him. He doesn’t deserve any less.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” he notes, “Does it happen to have to do with two overdressed gingers waiting in front of the gymnasium?”

“They’re still here?” and just like that, she cannot breathe, anxiety rising at the prospect of having to talk to her parents. She just expected them to stay just long enough to talk to Nedley, relaying whatever instructions they have for him. A traitorous part of her is hopeful, alight with the thought that they might be pleased with her; after all, they did win the game. Still, she knows better than to entertain the thought.. At least not anymore.

“That’s right, and they seem pretty pleased if I may say so myself.” 

“Probably scored a good deal for the company today.” Nicole answers, not letting herself hope that she somehow made her parents visibly happy; no, at most it would be quiet approval and a boost to her bank account, not words.

“Well, I think it has more to do with their daughter’s team winning the game, but to each his own I suppose.” he shrugs

“I know my parents, sir. They’re probably more disappointed that I got hit than they’re pleased we won.”

“Good thing I have this cream with me then! It’ll help, I used it all the time when I used to play.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

He tipped his hat at her. “Anytime, kid. Get cleaned up and greet your parents. I may have already buttered them up for you a little while ago.”

It takes Nicole a while before she braves to venture outside, mentally going through a list of things she remembers messing up at the game. Even with Nedley’s assurances, she doesn’t put it past her parents to be a mask; their job is to pretend around investors, after all. Maybe Nedley just took shape of one in their minds.

Still, she does a double take as she spots her parents, speaking in hushed whispers, looking almost nervous. 

Clearing her throat, she decides to rip the bandaid off as quickly as possible. She will probably take Wynonna up on her offer to release some steam at Shorty’s later, if anything, alcohol would make her forget what will surely be an awkward conversation.

“Hi mom, dad.”

“Hello sweetheart, are you okay?” ever the diplomat, her mother asks, even as her father assesses her with a critical eye, like he’s always done. He seems to have found whatever he needed, and his hands reemerged from where he’d hidden them behind his back. A tell Nicole memorized in childhood, a result of her seemingly endless need for the man’s approval. 

“It’s nothing, my gear absorbed most of the force.” she supplies, staring right at her father. Nedley’s cream thankfully watered down the pain to a level she’s used to, a numb kind of ache.

“Do you want us to drive you to the hospital?” her father asks, looking almost worried. He’s nervous, Nicole notes, anxiously adjusting his glasses. 

“No need, I’m fine.” the lie slides off her tongue easily enough, the result of many years of practice; she learned early on not to worry her parents with such matters, even as she definitely is not; physically and definitely not mentally, thoughts a persistent rollercoaster hiding behind an eyerolling headache.

The two shared a glance, clearly not believing her, but let it go all the same. “Sweetheart, your father and I thought of booking a holiday soon. Where would you like to go?” her mother asks

Nicole blinks, confusion painting itself known on her face. She knows what holidays with her family usually equated to; her father, sitting in the study, neck deep in paperwork and her mother taking calls for the company, while Nicole drank herself half to death in a virtual drinking game with Wynonna, partially out of disappointment, and out of boredom. 

Usually, they wouldn’t even bother asking, barely notifying her in time, and taking leave from school in her name. To actually have a say, even in the destination of their trip, is a welcome surprise. Still, she tries to tamper down the excitement building in her bones, the happiness blooming in her chest. 

“Ummm, sure. I always wanted to go climbing the Alps,” she mutters, resigned to the answer she’s going to receive; her parents could barely afford to be two hours away from HQ before they got jittery. Europe is probably out of question. 

To her immense shock, her father just nods. “A week in Switzerland, then? I trust you have all the gear necessary?”

Nicole just stares at him for a few seconds, brain still not processing the fact that they agreed to it. Her parents, who for the longest time didn’t even pay attention to her other than to scold her, seem to have turned a complete 180 out of a sudden. Not trusting her voice, she just nods in answer.

“Excellent. Can you compile a list of things your mother and I will need in order to join you?”

“I…” she swallows, head swimming in the atmosphere her parents have created, “yeah I can do that, sure.”

Her mother’s face lights up at that, nodding excitedly. “Honey, I have to make a call, but I’ll be right back!” she says, leaving her alone with her father.

The two Haughts just stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, for once mirroring each other. Nicole, for her part, doesn’t know what to talk about with her father; he’s always been a man of few words, unlike her mother, whose charm could conquer any crowd. 

What do you say to a man who hasn’t been treating you like his own daughter? What do you say to someone who choose his company over spending time with you? Even convincing your mother to follow suit, leaving you effectively alone in a giant mansion. 

Her father fixes his glasses, looking more nervous by the second. It’s a strange look on him, something Nicole doesn’t recall seeing in a while; ever since Hayley decided joining a biker gang was preferable to becoming an attorney heiress to the family company.

“That was a very exciting game to watch, Nicky. You did a good job.” he compliments rather messily, unaware of the fact that the words are so unfamiliar on his tongue that even Nicole has a hard time believing them to be genuine and not a sarcastic quip.

“Thanks, dad. I tried to make sure you two had a good game to watch.” and how her mind ached with that thought during the game, desperately trying not to look a fool in her parents’ eyes. Only to get hit in the leg and fall down, embarrassingly enough. It was the shame she could almost see in her father’s eyes that forced her up on her feet, numbing the pain better than any drug. 

“That you did,” he nods, “Makes me regret all the games we’ve missed before. We’ll definitely try to attend them more.”

Nicole’s throat closes up at the words. She barely managed to step on the ice knowing they were watching, even with Waverly encouraging her from the sidelines, she cannot imagine going through it at every single game. She knows it’s a gesture of good will, something parents are supposed to do, but she’s so used to just reporting the results to her parents, without them caring about the details of it, that the thought of having them watch her is unnerving.

He must have noticed her rising discomfort, because he steps back, clearing his throat. “That’s of course, not the only reason I’m here.”

Nicole’s spine straightens at that, preparing herself for the cosmic punchline. Her parents being too nice to her must have been there to ease her into something they needed from her, another role for her to fulfil. She’s just glad he’s finally comfortable enough to abandon the facade and be honest with her about his motivations.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you since Hayley left.” he rushes, jumbled words flying out of his mouth at a speed even Waverly, with her overly excited vigor could not match, “I had no right to punish you for something you never had a hand in.” a complete contrast to his previous words, the last ones are uttered with utmost care, as if rushing them will strip them of their meaning. The way he’s looking at her causes Nicole’s eyes to harden. It’s always been this way with him and her; one is callous and the other soothingly quiet, never both at the same time. 

“Are you only saying that just because you’ve finally realized she’s not coming back? Because you need someone to take over after you?” years of neglect want their due, and the poisonous words seep dutifully from her mouth, and for a moment, she relishes in the power she has over her father.

“Of course not, Nicky. I just want us to be the way we were before.” he answers, hands stubbornly glued to his sides,unthreatening, even as she notes how they quiver in his need to cross them over his chest. 

“If you recall, you never attended my games even before she left. You were too busy working at the company with her. No matter how much I begged you to come, you were always too busy for me. Why should it change only when I’m suddenly your only option?” and the wound she’s worked so hard to close, snaps open, unleashing a hurricane of tension between them. To her credit, she manages to keep her tone calm, not letting herself lose it. 

“You’re right.”

“I am?” she gasps in shock, but tries to cover it up, wrapping her next words in more poison,”You’re not even going to try to defend yourself? You’re an attorney dad, you’re supposed to be really good at it.”

“You know how I pick my clients? If I can see that they’re guilty, I won’t defend them. That’s what I’m doing right now. I can’t defend myself when I’m wrong, Nicky. I can only hope that you will give me a chance, not demand one.”

“Is that why you want us to go on holiday? Why you got me that jersey? Dad, you can’t buy me back with money. I need to spend time with you and mom, without work baggage. I don’t need an expensive holiday in order to do that.” no, she thinks, she’s sick of it, the fixation on money her father has. 

“I didn’t realize it came across that way. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, I just wanted to do something for you, something I knew you wanted to do.”

“Then make time for me.” she snaps, irritation finally showing in her tone,”Don’t glance at your phone whenever you’re home. I want us to be a family more than I want to climb the fucking Alps.”

He doesn’t even blink at the cuss, surprisingly.“You don’t have to pick one, we can do both. This isn’t a one time deal. I want us to be a family once again, as much as you do.” it’s the earnestness in his eyes that finally calms Nicole down, so unexpected that it renders her speechless for a moment.

She’s never been one for uncomfortable silence, so she utters the first words that come to mind; which is the wrong way to put it, she hasn’t stopped thinking about Waverly for those thoughts to come back,“Um, great then.” she takes a breath, “can I ask you for advice?” 

“Of course, Nicky. I’m here for you. Hopefully you didn’t murder anyone. I can’t legally give you advice on that, y’know!” the joke falls flat once more, despite her father’s best efforts, but in an endearing sort of way, that makes Nicole appreciate the gesture either way. Her business savy father, whose silver tongue saved countless clients, failed him in a joke, just because he’s too nervous to deliver it right? It makes Nicole’s heart swell at the sight.

“Nothing of the sort, don’t worry. It’s about-”

His phone rings, the same tune he’s always had as his ringtone, and she freezes, closing her mouth on instinct more than anything else. 

“I’m sorry, let me just put it on silent.”

“You’re not going to answer?” she thinks her jaw might hit the floor with the way she’s gaping at him. 

“It can wait.” he answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. It’s that tone of utter conviction and assuredness that convinces Nicole. “You’re my priority.”

With those words hanging in the air between them, the dam that’s been standing between Nicole and her heart, breaks; and tears spring forth from her eyes, in a rare show of emotion in front of her father, who drops his phone to the ground, arms going around her torso, pulling her into him. They both ignore the phone that’s still singing its tune.

She inhales, senses going numb momentarily, and she feels like a little girl once more, who scratched her knee in a fall from her bicycle, before her father scooped her up and soothed away the pain. The part of her mind that’s still somehow functioning, notes the irony of her situation, and the fact that her leg hurts only strengthens the deja vu.

After a few minutes, she sniffles, pulling back once she thinks her eyes have no more tears to cry. As her eyes trail over the pavement, she notices the name of the caller; Dr Nesby, and she’s suddenly cold, despite the warm weather. Is her father sick and only making amends because it’s his last chance at doing so? 

He picks up the phone from the ground, catching her gaze.

“Ah, he must be wondering if I managed to talk to you. That’s Nesby, my therapist.” he murmurs, 

The admission makes her do a double take. “You’ve talked to a therapist?” 

“Yes.” he nods, “he’s helped me realize the way I was dealing with things wasn’t right.”

“Did Mom make you go?” she asks. He’s always been a completely different man towards her mother, all soft eyes and words, which made his rejection of her hurt even worse, knowing he was capable of love, but chose not to direct it at her.

“Your grandfather, strangely enough.” he answers, a look of mild discomfort appearing on his face. It’s hard not to understand his point of view; Nicole herself has held a grudge against her grandfather for a time, ever since he admitted to knowing where her sister is, and refusing to tell her, giving her a phone number instead. One that went dead after they’d talked a couple of times, her sister caught between her love for her newfound life, and her sister. 

Now, though? Having experienced the same kind of love her sister always spoke about in hushed whispers, behind the closed door of her room, she has no more contempt in her heart. Hell, even with them not being together, Nicole would readily give everything up and move with Waverly to the forests of Russia, if she so desired. 

“Grandpa? I thought you two didn’t talk unless it had something to do with the company.” the understatement of the century, really; it was her grandfather who helped Hayley, the only one who’d known about her decision. He’d given her the money needed to buy herself a bike and even helped her find her boyfriend and his group. She’s not terribly surprised he decided to intervene.

“That’s how it started at least. He made me promise I’d go to an appointment in exchange for some of his stock. I went there for the money, but ended up staying for our family.” 

“Wow, grandpa really put himself in the line of fire. I owe him one.”

“I think we both do. I’d thank him, but I think the old geezer’s heart would catch up to him I did.”

“I think he knows, dad.”

“Probably. He’s always been good at reading people. I think that’s why he gave me Hayley’s number the last time we talked. She’s coming over for Christmas with her boyfriend. I even promised not to strangle the boy when he gets here.” he snorts at the last part.

“Do you think she’d mind if I-”

“Called her? I think she’d be happy to talk to you.” 

“Thanks, dad.”

She should have known it wouldn’t last. Not without some other form of divine intervention striking down in order to restore balance. 

Nicole promptly ignores the glare Champ levels her way as she marches across the bar, heading straight to the exit. She needed to clear her head after everything with Waverly; her heart thrums in excitement at being wanted by both her parents and Waverly, but the rational part of her is frozen with fear, not used to that sort of emotional toll, afraid that if she blinks it will all go away. 

Fingers glide over the keys in her hand, playing with the metal chain as she walks to her parking place. Her grip goes slack as she finally spots her car, or rather, what remains of it. 

Glass, split into seemingly a million pieces, lies across the pavement, almost creating a replica of the sky above, with how many tiny fragments are spread across the small space.

The passenger side door’s misshapen, dented in a shape that reminds her of a snake, long and yet impossibly thin. 

She steps closer, gingerly, mindful of the glass. Thankfully, the soles of her boots are thick enough to protect her feet. The inside of the car looks untouched, as if the entire act was done in a hurry, which, seeing that Champ was still inside Shorty’s, is plausible.

If Nicole were of sound mind, she would have likely just called the local repair shop to pick up the car and take care of the damage, but emotionally drained as she is, her mind focuses on one thing; her absolute hate for one Champ Hardy. Not only had he stood in between her and Waverly for so long, but now decides to smash her car? 

She spits out the cigarette hanging from her lips, turning on her heel immediately, rushing inside the packed bar. 

Champ has the audacity to grin at her, high fiving one of his friends sitting on the stool next to him. His smirk turns even more rotten as he takes her in, reminding her too much of the smug way he used to glare at whoever would be drawn to Waverly.

And Nicole sees red.

Her whole body tenses, much like when she’s preparing to strike the puck on the rink, but a hand on her shoulder throws a wrench into her whole thought process, halting it.

Blinking in confusion, she’s speechless for a moment as she takes in Gus McCready, owner of the bar, next to her. She pushes her into the stock room, before motioning for her to sit down in one of the chairs.

Completely thrown off, Nicole obeys, sitting down like a pupil awaiting their teacher to scold them.

“Look, kid. You don’t wanna go there guns blazing at Hardy. The boy doesn’t deserve it; I’ve got him on tape doing the whole smashing your car dance.” Gus offers, tone gruff, but eyes pleading for her to see reason.

“You’re a good kid, don’t go ruining that for some scrap metal.” 

Still feeling out of her depth, Nicole nods in answer. 

“Tomorrow morning, you take the tape and show it to the cops, they might be lazy donut eaters, but with evidence right in front of them, they will have to act on it.”

At the mention of the police, Nicole feels her cheeks heating up in shame. A potential police officer wouldn’t act out like she almost did, hell, she would probably never get into the Academy with petty assault on her record. 

“Right, Ms. McCready, thank you.” she says, a sheepish expression painted all over her face.

“It’s just Gus, girl. If you’re going to become part of the family, you might as well call me by my name.” 

“What?”

“Please, you and my Waverly aren’t half as subtle as you think you are. Especially talking in my bar,” she says, waving a hand in emphasis, motioning towards the stockroom door, laying much closer to the bar than she’d realized.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’ve seen much worse than two dramatic girls.” Gus waves her off, tone rough but body language placating.

“Dramatic?” she repeats, cheeks flushing at the scolding she’s receiving from the other woman. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that. You both are. You won’t let her try to prove herself to you, and she can’t seem to realize that no one’s going to care that you’re both women.”

“It’s not that I-”

“Relaying on time to change things is the dumbest thing you youngsters think work. If your mentality remains the same, it won’t matter if 20 minutes or 20 years pass. You have to give the girl a chance, kid.”

Mentally, she recoils from her comment. She’s always been the brave one, but the thought of Waverly Earp hurting her again, causes her to run for the hills. Words were easy, but actions? She needs Waverly to show her how she feels, not ramble out a messy confession. While the thought that she’s loved warmed her insides, she still felt like a monster in the closet, hidden until Waverly decided to let her out. And it hurts, being forced to stay on the sidelines instead of standing next to her.

Yet, Gus is right. Nicole’s cowardice keeps her from pulling up at the Homestead, with words of forgiveness on her lips, like a snake that wormed its way around her body, refusing to let her go. 

It takes a moment for Nicole to realize the sheer absurdity of her situation; sitting in the stockroom, with the bar owner giving her relationship advice. Well, she thinks, at least I’ve got her blessing. 

Thankfully, her mind’s beginning to settle, and the adrenaline rushing through her veins has almost evaporated. Straightening her posture, she nods at the older woman, not feeling quite ready to speak, knowing her insecurities are pooling up, begging to be let out.

It’s ten minutes later that Nicole finally manages to get herself together enough to come out of the room. When she does, she immediately notices Waverly, standing close to Champ with a menacing look on her face.

The girl looks like a small bundle of enraged lightning as she gets in his face, without fear. 

Wynonna’s right next to her, but strangely enough, is silent, seemingly settling on just glaring at Champ threateningly. 

Immediately, she looks around, trying to find Gus, but her horror, the barkeep is nowhere to be found.

“You absolute shitticket! Who do you think you are? Who smashes another person’s car? Hell, that car is worth more than you are.” she hears Waverly yell, as the smaller girl advances on Champ, who actually steps back, holding up his hands.

“Damn, babe. Relax… I wanted to get back at Wynonna, but I couldn’t bring myself to smash your jeep, too many good memories you know,” he winks, pleased with his own lecherous wit.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole begins to close in on them, hands hanging by her sides, non threateningly. At the glare Wynonna leveled his way, Nicole just knows he’s about to get punched for the second time, and no matter how tolerant Gus is, she probably won’t let her off the hook twice.

Nicole can’t lie, though. She perfectly understands the way Wynonna’s feeling, her own right hand aching to be met with Champ’s smug face, but with her dossier in mind, she forces the thought down. She’s not some mindless thug looking for a fight.

“Look, you homophobic moron,” Wynonna growls, “Whether my sister digs Haught or not is her own damn business, and unless you want to be reacquainted with my fist, I suggest you floor the bill for the repairs.”

“What’s with you two, I don’t care that she’s a chick! She can’t just go around stealing my girl. You have no proof, Earp. I’m buzzed, I might just be talking smack, no?” 

“Actually, Hardy, I’ve got you on camera. Seems like you forgot fine establishments like this have security cameras at the door. “ Nicole supplies helpfully, now standing next to Wynonna. To her surprise, Waverly inches closer to her, until her shoulder is bumping into Nicole. 

Nicole feasts on the sight of the way Champ’s jaw almost hits the floor as he processes the new bit of information.

“You’re lying.” he replies, but seemingly even he does not believe the words.

“‘Fraid not, boy. Why don’t you pay your tab and leave before I ban you from Shorty’s altogether?” says Gus, a beer case in her hands. She must have been outside in order to fetch it.

“Well, if you have cameras, why don’t you show the cops the footage of Wynonna assaulting me?” the smartass asks, confidence back in full swing. He seems to think Gus wouldn’t hand over the footage if it could incriminate Wynonna, with her record being terrific as it is. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The cameras must have stopped working for a minute when it happened. It’s old tech, it happens sometimes. Can’t do anything about it.” she shrugs, not looking sorry in the slightest. Even the words are delivered with a small smirk.

“Ugh, whatever. I’m out of this shithole.” he rolls his eyes, attempting to keep his dignity in front of his friends, and failing.

“Pay your tab first.”

“I got attacked here and I’m supposed to pay you for it?”

“Fine, consider yourself banned for not paying your tab. Can’t say I’ll miss your not-tipping ass.” Gus replies, shrugging. 

“You can’t ban me!” 

“That’s funny, I think I just did.”

“Chump, you better leave before I have to escort you. “ Wynonna threatens, hand immediately forming a fist.

“Whatever, you Earps are all the same anyway.” looking more like a scolded child than a man, Champ walks away, leaving Nicole surrounded by Earps. Strangely enough, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable in their company, it feels downright familiar.

“Nicole,” Gus calls out, turning to face her. “I called Murdock from the repair shop. He’ll take your car in the morning. Feel free to borrow mine so you can get home safely.”

“No need!” Waverly jumps in, “Nic, why don’t you go with us?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you, I’ll just walk home.” she answers, the perfect face of nonchalance plastered on her, but inside, she just doesn’t feel ready to be enclosed in a small space with Waverly again.

“Not at all! Wynonna and I have had a little bit to drink anyway, so you’d be doing us a favor. Please, Nicole?” pleads Waverly, her perfect little pout staring right at Nicole. Damn, Waves, she thinks, as her apprehension melts away at the expression.

“Sure, Waves. I’ll drive you two to the homestead.” almost without her permission, the words slip out.

“Wait! You two can’t possibly be serious? I’m barely even buzzed!”

“Earp, don’t pretend you don’t keep a bottle of whiskey next to your bed anyway.”

“You keep what next to your bed, Wynonna!?” exclaims Gus, actually shocked at the information. Which she supposes, makes sense, since the two don’t live together anymore.

To her surprise, Wynonna looks ashamed as she looks at Gus, for once not replying with a witty comment.

Gus sighs. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Just promise me you’ll be careful, alright?”

“I promise.”

“Nicole, keep my girls safe.” somehow, even as it seems simple enough on the surface, the older woman’s plea feels strangely personal, as if she were asking for more than just a ride home. 

“Of course, Gus.” replies Nicole, determined to keep the promise. The woman had just saved her reputation and future job prospects. Not to mention, approval from such a blunt, difficult woman made Nicole almost preen in pride.

“Good, now get going girls. I’ll kick out the others in a few minutes, so you get a headstart before the road becomes crowded.” with that said, Gus turns away, taking her place behind the bar.

She glances at Waverly, who hands her the keys to her jeep silently. The key feels wrong in her hand, serving just to remind her of the pitiful state her car is in.

Still, she sighs, heading towards the exit once more, but this time to a car that’s decidedly not ruined.

They pass by her car as they near the jeep and Nicole, despite her best efforts, does not manage to look away from the wreck. On the rational level, she’s aware of the fact that the guys from the shop will be able to repair it, but it pains her that it will not be fully her car, in the state her parents had given to her, before she left for Purgatory. With things finally looking up, seeing the car in such a state is a sobering reminder that no matter how hard she tries, something will always happen.

Wynonna, oblivious as ever, does not notice Nicole’s internal anguish, even as the redhead stops in front of the car. She merely continues the walk to the jeep, but Waverly does not.

No, Waverly is in front of her in seconds, raising her hand, but freezing mid-air, causing it to hang awkwardly between them.

Somehow, even as Waverly most likely did it for her comfort, it feels anything but. It feels like rejection, and Nicole suddenly realizes that she might have been too harsh on Waverly, just like Gus said. 

So, she trusts her gut and braves the distance between them, reaching for Waverly, whose facial expression transforms into something akin to awe, as she stares up at her, before she hides her face in her letterman. 

Slowly, Nicole lowers her chin atop Waverly’s head, squeezing tight. 

“Yknow, Nic, Maverick’s really good with cars! Once, Wynonna crashed my jeep and took it to his shop before I came home, and I didn’t even notice! I only found out when I saw the bill on the floor.”

She knows the words are meant to be comforting, but she doesn’t feel comforted by them, not when she’s already forgotten why she’d been sad in the first place. Waverly did always have that effect on her, reducing her world to one girl.

“Mhmm, good to know.”

“Hey, PDA! I’m riding shotgun, you’d get me killed if I let you sit next to Haught. Save the kissy faces for the homestead!”

Sufficiently shamed by Wynonna’s words, Nicole lets go, just as Waverly jumps back, pink-faced.

The ride to the homestead is surprisingly, not awkward at all. Wynonna’s chatty, giving them the details of her latest conquest, even to the quite obvious horror of her captive audience.

Every so often, Nicole glances in the rearview mirror, not so subtly looking at Waverly, who’s bundled in a blanket in the back, eyes closed. Nicole wishes she could also be sleeping, if not at least just so she wouldn’t have to listen to Wynonna. She’s never been surer of her sexuality.

She parks the jeep in front of the old barn, cringing as Wynonna triumphantly jumps out of the car, mumbling something about finding her whiskey. She shuts the door loudly, yet somehow Waverly still remains asleep.

Nicole, on the other hand, remains in her seat, contemplating just how she’s going to get back home. She’d meant to take the two back and then borrow the jeep, returning it in the morning, before any of the sisters wake up. 

She’s not keen on walking home either, with the pain in her leg flaring up occasionally, which remains the only option if she doesn’t gather the courage to wake Waverly up. 

Quietly, unlike Wynonna, she gets out of the car. She decides that asking Wynonna to help her carry Waverly is the best option, other than outright waking her up, which Nicole cannot bring herself to do. Especially since she noticed the bags under Waverly’s eyes.

She finds Wynonna sprawled on the couch, a bottle of jack in her hand. She looks almost happy, there by herself. Nicole finds herself wondering just how terrible of a childhood the two had, when the happiest Wynonna looks is when she’s staring at the bottle. 

“Haughtshot!” she greets, dropping her gaze from the ceiling in acknowledgement. “There you are. Where’s Waves?” 

“Asleep in the backseat. I need you to help me carry her to bed.” mentally, she cringes at the words. She should have phrased the sentiment better. 

“Haught, I’m beat. I’m barely holding myself upright, let alone my sister. Just wake her up. Plus I did punch your nemesis for my sister’s affection, you know! Least you could do is let me rest!”

“Expected you to punch me, not him, when you got ahold of that info.” she responds, 

“Pfft, why would I? At least I know you’re not going to be getting her pregnant! 18 and pregnant would be a very bad look for her, y’know.”

“Right.” biting her tongue as not to say anything more, Nicole tries to focus on the yellow stain on Wynonna’s shirt, smelling suspiciously of whiskey.

“Dude, I thought you’d be over the moon now. Aren’t you and Wave girlfriends now or something?”

“No, we’re not. I take it you haven’t talked to her, then?”

“Riight. I suppose I didn’t catch you two making kissy eyes at each other while hugging in a parking lot.Don’t tell me I punched Chump for nothing.”

“Wynonna believe it or not, not all of us can just jump into bed straight away and forget everything.”

“Not so straight in your case, dude.” Wynonna retorts, looking pleased at the joke. “What’s with that anyway? She told you how she feels, right? Don’t tell me you don’t love her back, I might just punch you if that’s it.”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be with her in secret.We agreed to take it slow.”

“So what are you now? Gal pals? I swear to god Haught, your lesbian relationship drama is going to be the end of me. She apologized and told you how she feels. She almost murdered Champ on the spot when she found out he thrashed your car.”

“I cannot be with someone I don’t trust fully, and she cannot be seen in public with a woman. I would say those are perfectly valid reasons, Earp.”

“You two are so dramatic, I swear to Jason Momoa’s pecs. Just stop looking back and be with her, you have to understand the whole being gay thing is new for her.”

“I’m not asking her to tell people she’s gay at every opportunity, Wynonna. I don’t want her to look behind her shoulder whenever we’re together, in fear of someone seeing. I want her to be with me the way she’d been with Champ.” 

“With no inappropriate touching, I hope?” 

“Wynonna.”

“Ugh, I know you want to be a cop, but aren’t they supposed to be observant? Have you not seen the way she looks at you? Hell, I saw it, and everyone else did. Why do you think Champ was so upset? The asshat is thick as a brick, but even he noticed it. Not to mention Waverly slipped up in the middle of her rant when she confronted him.”

“She slipped up?”

“No one gets to mess with my girlfriend, especially not you, Champ!” Wynonna reenacts, putting on her best Waverly impression, that ends up more Chrissy Nedley than Waverly, but the sentiment is there, transferred well enough.

“Waverly considers us girlfriends? She said so at the bar?” god, she should be embarrassed at how earnest she sounds, especially after everything, but Waverly Earp calling her girlfriend will never be something she can take lightly. Even on Wynonna’s tongue, it feels right, like she’d been waiting for that her whole life. She knows they haven’t talked about it, not in so many words, but after months of being Waverly’s hidden friend with benefits, having her proclaim it in front of the whole bar feels damn close to heaven on earth. 

“Super loudly too. I’m pretty sure even Gus heard her.” she confirms, apparently taking great pleasure in being the one to tell Nicole about it. 

“Ugh Haught stop flashing me that smile, you’re going to blind me. Aim it at Waverly!”

“Earp I swear to god-” she mutters, head bowed in an effort not to let her see how much she’s blushing. Thankfully, further humiliation is prevented by Waverly, as she breezes inside, blanket still wrapped around her securely. It’s a sight that momentarily makes Nicole forget about the tiredness settling in her bones, rousing her senses. 

“Wynonna, be nice!” she scolds half heartedly, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from Wynonna’s hand, who doesn’t even protest, merely settling even deeper into the couch. Nicole truly envies her for her ability to fall asleep anywhere; she still remembers the way the boards from under the heavy mattress of the couch dug into her back the last time she slept there. 

“Waves, I hope I didn’t wake you up?” 

She shakes her head, “Not at all, I just got cold.”

 

“Of course,” she cannot help but tease a bit, “You lacked three blankets and a bonus one, right?”

“Oh come on, it’s cold outside! I’m pretty sure I’d need two bonus blankets in this weather.” she grumbles adorably, a frown that Nicole aches to wipe away.

She throws a look at the window, feeling somehow awkward because of the words that she’s about to utter. “Yeah I should probably head back, get some sleep.”

Which is apparently the wrong thing to say, as the little bundle of joy next to her morphs into ire.

“Nicole, you cannot drive this late! Especially not alone!” Waverly says, glaring at her, seemingly angry at her for even suggesting it,”You could fall asleep behind the wheel and what then?”

“The kid is right, Haught. You won’t have my stories to keep you awake! Though they did serve as a bedtime story for Waves here. Speaking of, kiddo, care to give me that blanket? I think I’ll take the couch tonight. Those damn stairs are a battle for another day.” she grumbles the last part, eyes already closed.

“Alright,” Waverly responds, rolling her eyes at the dramatic display, before draping the blanket over Wynonna, making sure she’s covered from head to toe, in contrast to her initial reaction. 

“Um, so. You know your way around the homestead if you want to stay that is. I’m not saying that you have to or anything, but I really wouldn’t mind and I know Wynonna wouldn’t either, and I can make pancakes in the morning-”

Nicole wants to attribute it to the tiredness she feels in her bones at the thought of driving home to her empty house, but deep down, she knows she just wants things between her and Waverly to be okay again, desperately. 

When she nods, Waverly’s smile gets impossibly brighter, and she grabs Nicole’s hand, on instinct, leading her up the stairs. Nicole’s heart swells at the lack of awkwardness between them; she’d expected Waverly to be hesitant, especially after their conversation, but the younger Earp took it in stride, seemingly motivated to prove herself.

And well, Nicole would be a fool to say no to holding hands with Waverly Earp, squeezing her hand lightly. 

Waverly lets go only after she’s done showing Wynonna’s room to her.

“Well,” Nicole hums, “I can only hope there’s no bodily fluid on the bed. I know how Wynonna celebrates victory.” 

Immediately, Waverly blushes, cheeks turning scarlet. “Oh god, I haven’t thought of that. Pete York was here just yesterday.” 

Nicole’s nose contracts at the mental image. “Yeah, I think I’ll just drive home.”

“What, no!” Waverly yelps at that, “I can’t just let you drive this late! You just sleep in my bed and I’ll take Wynonna’s.”

“Waverly Earp, I’m not letting you get in contact with any bodily fluid, especially not male.”

“Umm… would it be too awkward for you if we just shared mine, then? 

Nicole’s surprised at the fact that truly, she cannot find it in herself to protest the idea, not a stray thought in her brain about it being a bad idea. 

“Sure,” she shrugs,”Wouldn’t be the first time. You wanna watch some netflix? I’m kinda too restless to fall asleep.”

“I know what you mean,” she nods, “I feel the same way.”

Waverly then leads them back to her room, apologizing for the mess inside, but Nicole only has eyes for one of her old uniform shirts, laying across a chair in the right side of the room. When Waverly notices what she’s looking at, she has the decency to look embarrassed. 

“Um, remember that one time we tore up my shirt so you gave me one of yours? I guess it’s a good thing I forgot to give it back, you can wear it now!”

Nicole tries to suppress her pleasure at the thought of Waverly wearing one of her shirts, and nods, already halfway to the chair.

“...Nicole?” she hears Waverly call out behind her, as she shimmies out of her letterman.

“Yeah, Wave?” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? We, um, did leave things on a weird note earlier. Kinda feels weird that you’re down to sleep with me.” she says, “-not in that way! Just sleep in the same bed!”

This time, Nicole cannot hold back a laugh. How does Waverly manage to look so adorable? “I know what you mean, Waves. I think I just needed to get it off my chest. Just because I want us to take it slow, doesn’t mean I suddenly don’t feel the same way towards you. Not going to lie, I did always want to see what sleeping with you would be like.”

Now Waverly looks crestfallen, eyes dropping down in shame, and Nicole realizes why. Reminding Waverly of how things used to be like just seems to have no purpose other than making her feel bad for things she cannot change.

“I never even realized how it was for you, Nic. I’m sorry.”

Not liking the way Waverly’s voice hitches, she hurries to stand in front of her, opening her arms, so Waverly can accept the touch if she feels comfortable. Immediately, Waverly’s body crashes into hers, arms going to Nicole’s waist as Nicole wraps her own around her shoulders. Even though they’ve hugged in the parking lot, not even two whole hours ago, she still accepts her touch like a starved madwoman, relishing in how right it feels. 

“Good thing we’re changing it now, right? Plenty of time for me to get used to it.”

She feels Waverly nodding against her chest, which she notes, is covered only by her sports bra. Judging by how quickly Waverly gets off her, the other girl seems to have noticed it as well, as she coughs awkwardly, muttering something about finding a good movie to watch, and Nicole feels something warm swelling in her chest at the whole scene they seem to be making. It’s oddly domestic.

Waverly decides on a spanish TV series, mumbling something about it being easier to doze off when you can’t understand what the characters are saying. 

Nicole says nothing when Waverly settles next to her, inching closer as minutes go by, until she’s resting her head on her shoulder, nose rubbing against the skin of her throat. 

She could almost cry at how good it feels, the comforting weight atop her, Waverly’s breath brushing against her. Minutes later, Waverly’s out like a light, snoring softly, in her adorable way, as Nicole basks in the sheer domesticity of it. 

Laying with her now, on a dry bed, without the thought of having to go away before Wynonna wakes up, feels much better than any of their previous trysts. 

It’s the thought of how she wouldn’t mind it happening again, that lulls her to sleep. 

When she comes to, in Waverly’s bed, she feels disappointed in herself at first, thinking she’d fallen prey to her urges and brought her to bed. Moments later, when it all flows back into her brain, she lets out a relieved sigh, and gets up, following the godly smell of pancakes. 

“Nic!” greets Waverly, a plate of pancakes in each hand, as she puts them onto the table. Vegan, gluten free, and somehow, absolutely delicious. “Good morning!”

“‘Morning, Waves.” rummaging through the cupboards in search of coffee, she grunts when her search turns out pointless.

“Looking for coffee? It’s in that thermos right next to the fridge. I didn’t want it to get cold. It’s the way you like it, black, sugarfree, funfree.” she teases, pointing to the bottle in question. 

“Thanks, Waves.” 

“Of course,” she nods, “Anything for my baby!”

When she realizes what came out of her mouth, she opens and closes it, looking suspiciously like a fish out of water. Terrified that she’s crossed the line. It makes Nicole’s heart constrict; the feeling all too familiar, akin to how she felt whenever she whispered an endearment below the sheets, afraid it would cause Waverly to run for the hills.

“Breathe, Wave,” she instructs, “It’s okay.” she smiles in what she hopes is reassuring, because really, it is. It’s absurd that they’d be awkward around pet names when they used much more vulgar ones in Waverly’s bed. 

“Really?” she questions, wide-eyed, a smile etched on her lips, not merely looking at Nicole, but seeing her, all of her. She’s radiant, in the way that makes Nicole’s knees weaken, tempted to worship at her temple, just so she’d get a glimpse at that expression again. 

“More than okay.” she responds,

“Eww, lovebirds. Don’t make heart eyes at each other in front of my pancakes!” in a show of her exceptional talent of absolute interruption, Wynonna’s quip makes Nicole realize how close they’re standing.

“Good morning to you too, Wynonna.” she greets, only now noticing the older Earp sitting How’s the hangover?”

“Bleh. Don’t ask. I’ve had worse.” 

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that, as you somehow always get me to bring you back.”

Wynonna merely stuffs her face with a piece of pancake that’s more syrup than anything, and Nicole basks in the silence, watching Waverly cook, humming an old tune all the same.

She could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here it is. I don't think I've written more for a single chapter in a long time. Hopefully, the length didn't end up lowering the quality of it. I would love to hear what you think! Truth be told, I was super nervous about posting this; I hope I managed to show her thought process, since the jump from the last chapter is quite big. Criticism is welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> [hmu on tumblr](http://theorphelin.tumblr.com/)


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